


It's A Gleeful Sort Of Feeling

by MagicalMajestys



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, Everyone is kinda gay, F/F, F/M, Glee AU, Humor, Internalized Homophobia, Jaha wants to destroy the glee club, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Romance, this idea started out as a joke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-26 09:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalMajestys/pseuds/MagicalMajestys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin is a girl of many wants but one of those wants in particular may just have something to do with getting Arkadia High's poorly represented glee club back on track before the end of the school year. Though it turns out to be a lot harder than it initially seems when she ends up recruiting a tone-deaf boy band and a rowdy bunch of teenagers, that might just end up making her usually perfect life a living nightmare. </p><p>All Clarke wanted was a functioning extracurricular club to put on her college application. Which is more easily said than done when you are just about as popular as a dirty gym sock and your nutty, yoga-obsessed, father to your best friend is out to crush all of your hopes and dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fight For Your Right (to ensure your responsibility over clubroom activities)

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this au originally started out as a joke between my friend and I but then I started writing it and now there is no going back (so enjoy).

There was always something about the new semester that had Clarke feeling refreshed, renewed and particularly more excited than she would be on a normal school day. And though she wasn’t exactly looking forward to any actual lessons per say, a new year came with fresh opportunities and it wasn’t as if she had anything better to do alongside student council meetings and her annual performance classes.

Clarke was a passionate, confident, (strong willed), young woman now. Extracurricular clubs and activities were definitely something she could handle again this year. There was not an inch of doubt in her mind about it. It would totally be a breeze.

Wells, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be so sure.

“Don’t you remember how bad it was last year, Clarke,” he sighed, hands toying idly with the hem of his argyle sweater-vest as they slowly made their way over to their designated lockers for the year. As usual they remained side by side, which Clarke supposed was rather fitting. Wells’s dad, Thelonious Jaha, was the principle of Arkadia High so of course, the benefits of being best friends with his son were extremely prosperous.

“I don’t know if I want to go back to glee club,” he huffed again and this time Clarke rose a carefully plucked eyebrow, urging him to continue, “It’s just-” another sigh, “It’s just that there are other clubs, you know? Glee wasn’t doing so good last year and now all the seniors are gone and there is no way anyone we knew last year is going to wanna join so…”

“So we recruit freshman,” Clarke replied firmly as she entered her new locker combination and flung open the door, feeling a little wearier now that Wells was having doubts, “problem solved.” 

She tugged her backpack off from where it was slung over her shoulder and pulled out the textbooks she wouldn’t need until later in the day before stashing them hastily inside. Wells shook his head before turning to rummage through his own things.

“You never give up do you?”

It sounded more like a statement than a question so Clarke shrugged her shoulders aimlessly in response. Giving up just wasn’t her style. She was certain Wells already knew that by now.

She smoothed down the collar of her shirt under her own blue, knitted sweater before slowly closing the door to her locker and turning to face him, eyes burning with determination.

“Glee club _will_ win Nationals this year, Wells. I’ll make sure of it.”

It was Wells’s turn to look skeptical now as he closed the door and turned away from his own locker, “And you think my dad will let us keep running the club without any sort of compensation?”

“Totally, I’ve got you covered,” she managed to get out as reassuringly as she could, which unfortunately wasn’t very reassuring in the slightest, “I know we haven’t won any real awards yet but that’s only another check box for us to tick in the future! I’m a great conversationalist, alright,” Wells rolled his eyes, “It won’t take long until he changes his mind.”

“Sure.”

“Come on,” she nudged his shoulder playfully and he shook his head. Clarke knew Wells only needed a little more encouragement before he gave in, “Seriously, Wells. Hang in there.”

“Only for a little longer.”

"Great."

He shook his head a second time, smiling as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans before pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper and handing it over to Clarke, “You know how much I love to perform so I made this. You know, for auditions maybe… Just for, you know. Just for if it works out after all…”

He shuffled his feet awkwardly and Clarke rose an eyebrow and shot him a quick look of confusion before unfolding the sheet carefully. Wells played with his fingers nervously but stopped as soon as she broke into a wide grin, eyes scanning the headline written tidily at the top of the paper in his handwriting.

“…I thought it would come in handy for recruiting instead of having to ask around this time,” he added, “Just to uh, _‘help contribute to the cause,’_ as you would probably put it.”

“Wells!” Clarke was in awe, “A glee club sign up sheet, seriously!?” she shot him a look of disbelief that quickly turned into something a little more smug, all within just a couple of seconds, “I thought you said you were over it?”

He shrugged a bit sheepishly, though there was still a hint of a smile on his lips, “I guess not.”

This was so typical of Wells. She didn’t know why she felt so surprised.

“Asshole,” she snorted into his shoulder when he suddenly pulled her in for a short hug, “You totally had me convinced.”

“Not _too_ convinced I hope.” 

“No, not too convinced,” Clarke shook her head. She couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. Wells hadn’t given up after all.

“All we’ve gotta do is make some copies and we’re good to go. We could probably do it during lunch period, the library is always open and I- wait, what’s your schedule? You checked it right?” he asked abruptly, pulling back and squinting at Clarke when she only hummed in response, clearly unhappy about their time sheet (fourth year in a row, surprise, surprise).

“I studied it this morning,” she frowned, tapping her neatly filed nails along the closed door of her locker. She wasn’t particularly happy about her lessons today but by Wells’s expression he didn’t seem to be as bothered by his. Lucky.

“Look at you, always prepared,” he laughed, a little too cheery for her liking, “So what’s your deal?”

“Pre-calc and trigonometry that’s my deal,” she mumbled in return, “Just a good hour of my time wasted on math yet again.”

He nodded, “Same here, guess we couldn’t count on getting separate classes this year.”

“No, we definitely could not,” Clarke sighed, clutching her math textbook to her chest as they finally set off down the hallway to get to their first class of the day. Pre-calc was already a total pain in the ass so early in the morning, but as their first class of the new semester? Like _come on,_ seriously? Clarke would rather have her name taken off the school bulletin board for student of the year than sit through another class of Mr. Titus rambling about algebra equations like they weren’t the most impossible thing in the world to get your head around.

“You could at least pretend you aren’t having a total brain fart right now,” Wells snorted when he caught sight of her disgusted expression, “Seriously, it’s not as bad as you make it seem.”

Clarke scoffed good humouredly, “Says you, nerd-lord, I’m sorry but not all of us are blessed with a creepy robot number brain.”

“A creepy robot number brain?”

“Yep, you heard me.”

“I think you might need to brush up on some of those English skills too,” he chuckled and Clarke shoved his shoulder playfully, “Better safe than sorry.”

“Oh, shut up. Like you could do any better.”

“We’ll see about that.”

They continued their banter as they made their way down the rest of the corridor and Clarke nonchalantly glanced around at the cesspit of students that had suddenly taken to making the hallways as ridiculously overcrowded as possible. She made a note of some fresh faces and made a marginalized list in her head of who looked the most approachable.

Of course there would be some opportunistic club runners looking to snap up all the poor, unsuspecting freshman in order to protect their status and Clarke just happened to know that she was one of those people. She thought she seemed friendly enough so hopefully these kids would see that and want to embark on the wondrous experience that was glee, even if a lot of other older students didn’t (their loss). And besides, even if Wells didn’t seem too sure about it, she couldn’t give up just yet. It wasn’t the Clarke Griffin way. She’s gotten through much tougher predicaments than this so she just had to hope and pray that things would be much simpler than expected (which of course they would be, once she got everything in order and up to date). She was a role model from birth.

Wells just didn’t know what he was talking about- sure last year glee club had been a total bust but with Clarke running things this year there was no way that would happen again. She was a good innovator after all, a firm leader. The best way to go about it would be to eliminate all easy going behaviour (something that Wells constantly referred to as the _“no fun club”_ ) and just finish what needed to be done. She had absolutely no tolerance for screwing around, or for bullying, or fighting, or-

 _Slushies._ Clarke heaved a sigh. If quitting the glee club was any sort of solution to that problem, no wonder Wells had at least considered it. Anything was better than getting hit in the face with an ice cold beverage again for the rest of the school year.

Clarke shrieked loudly when the freezing, bright red liquid hit her face. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar feeling but it was an unpleasant one that she had definitely not wanted to relive under any circumstances _ever._ Hell! She didn’t even freaking like slushies! The school’s ones were flavourless and tasted like mush and getting one to the face everyday last year seriously did not help for her better lack of judgment.

“Ugh!”

She wiped the strawberry scented frost from her eyes and peered over towards Wells, whose face was equally as sopping wet, the blue from the slushie was now soaking into the top of his white collared shirt. He looked more pitiful and upset than angry but that was okay, Clarke had enough rage stored up inside for the both of them.

“What the hell is your problem! I‘m a student council member!” she fumed as the offending slushie throwers tossed their now empty cups on the ground and howled with laughter down the rest of the unfortunately, extremely overcrowded hallway, “Animals!” she continued to yell, _“You’re all animals!”_

Clarke was absolutely furious. There was absolutely no way this was going to continue happening again this year. It shouldn’t have to! Clarke was a member of the student council and a model student! It was her duty to protect other potential victims from this sort of disgusting display of dominance over their fellow student body. Arkadia High was a total zoo and this was something she had always known but still couldn’t stomach particularly well. That’s exactly what it was, she decided. A gross, cramped, super humid zoo filled to the brim with a bunch of hard faced fifteen year olds and a whole lot of perspiration. She just wouldn’t stand for it. There was absolutely no way.

“Principle Jaha, we can’t just stand by and let this sort of thing slip past us!” Clarke seethed loudly to the man in question after a quick bathroom break to wipe the bright red sludge off of her clothes and out of her hair, “Isn’t there some sort of rule against this sort of behaviour!? It’s totally uncalled for!”

The man didn’t say anything in response for a while and instead, scratched at the measly scruff of grey hair at the very bottom of his chin in silence. Clarke had always thought that it made him look like a goat but that was something she made very sure to keep to herself. Wells was standing in the corner of Jaha’s office, quietly pretending to admire the certificates littering the walls in order to avoid making eye contact with his father.

There was always something particularly strange about principal Jaha that Clarke couldn’t exactly put her finger on. She wasn’t sure if it was the bright orange cardigan he was wearing or the rolled up yoga mat she saw sticking precariously out of the large purple duffle bag in the corner of the room but his office definitely gave off some weird (kind of uncomfortable) vibes. Not to mention the rumor going around about him using the sports hall for random meditation sessions was definitely peculiar enough, though when she had asked for some insight Wells had quickly denied it, but she understood why he did so for obvious reasons. No one wanted people to think their father was a complete nut job (even if he totally was).

Clarke stood in front of Jaha’s desk, arms folded angrily across her chest as she waited for some sort of reply. Because as much as he _was_ a total nut job, he was a really, really stubborn one when it came down to Clarke getting what she wanted.

“They ruined my sweater, sir,” she grumbled a little more sulkily now to change the topic and at least get some sort of conversation flowing inside the small room, “Shouldn’t that at least count for something.”

Jaha looked surprised and finally opened his mouth to speak, though Clarke wasn’t particularly sure that she wanted to hear whatever he had to say. Wells certainly didn’t.

“It seems like that club of yours is still doing more harm than good,” he said, putting his elbow on his desk with his hand underneath his chin. Clarke groaned, completely willing to keep her eyes trained on his ugly yellow polka-dotted tie in order to avoid the knowing smile that was surely forming on his lips.

She thought about the sign-up sheet that Wells had made, now completely sticky and covered in vibrant red stains and scowled.

“With all due respect, sir,” she replied, still more than a little unhappy, “I hadn’t mentioned the club.”

Jaha shook his head and waved his free hand dismissively. Clarke scowled harder, “Of course you didn’t. I was just under the impression that this uh,” he waved his hand around again, “disagreement, let’s say, was sparked by your participation in that singing group of yours.”

“Glee club, sir.”

“Yes,” he sighed impatiently, “So if we were to terminate the club altogether don’t you think it would be a possibility that this sort of tradition of throwing drinks at each other would come to an end?”

Wells finally looked over from where he was standing and Clarke caught sight of the pleading look in his eyes almost immediately, practically screaming for her to stop meddling. And that, she decided, was definitely not the right solution.

“So you’re saying that the logical response to bullying would be to back down and let whatever happens happen? Sir, that just doesn’t seem right-”

“That’s because it’s not,” Wells spoke up, putting down the tacky multi-colored picture frame he was looking at before sweeping across the room to stand beside Clarke in her defense, “And we’ve been through this before. It’s them throwing the slushies, not the other way around, dad.”

Jaha looked shocked at this (as if he hadn’t heard it about a million times already) and the snide smile he originally wore disappeared quickly. Clarke was grateful for this and she spared a pleased glance up at Wells while his father continued to reconsider what he had said.

“I’ll tell you what,” Jaha replied eventually, and the two of them refocused their attention on him once again and pretended to look interested, “I’ll give you a proposition- a chance to prove to me that you know what you are doing here. Taking ownership and responsibility...”

Clarke clenched the side of Wells’s shirt sleeve hopefully.

“You’ve got until the end of tomorrow to recruit at least five more members of the glee club and prove to me that this is something people will be actively interested in. Otherwise I am revoking glee club, _permanently._ ”

“But sir-”

“No buts,” Jaha held up a finger to silence her and Clarke’s mouth clacked shut, “Glee has proved unsuccessful for a multitude of years now and I can’t keep allowing my son to continue wasting his time on a club that is making no progress in this school whatsoever. Especially when he is prone to becoming a giant, living snow cone!”

Clarke held her tongue. There was no way they could just let the glee club die, it would just be like letting all those years of time, practice, and after school sessions go to waste.

Jaha gestured to the blue slushie stains tainting the collar of Wells’s shirt and Clarke shot him a sympathetic look. Wells loved to perform but he was also incredibly talented academically. He had a lot going for him and Clarke knew that lots of great colleges would be itching to accept him into their courses next year. It wasn’t the same for her, she barely managed to maintain a B average, this was all that she had going for her. She knew Wells was upset about the slushies incident but she hadn’t realized it was affecting his emotional state so badly either, so she was surprised by the next words that came out of her friend’s mouth.

“We’ll do it.”

“ _What?_ ” Clarke hissed, poking Wells in the side in order to attract his attention, “Wells, you said it yourself! No one we know is going to want to join!”

“Not exactly,” he whispered back and Jaha raised both eyebrows, obviously not too please about being excluded from the conversation.

There was no way Clarke was not invested now. How long had Wells had an idea of who to recruit? And more specifically, where could this person be found?

“Anything else you two want to tell me before I kick you out of my office?”

Clarked turned her attention back to Jaha. She wiggled her fingers discreetly underneath the sleeves of her sweater in excitement. The anticipation of getting the job done was surely going to creep up on her during the day if she didn’t just pick up the pace and get out of here. She was a girl on a mission.

“Nope, she replied with a quick shake of her head, “Just raring to go now, sir.”

Jaha laughed but not unpleasantly this time, casually dismissing them by making shooing motions at the two of them with his hands, “At least you’re honest. You two go enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Will do, sir,” Clarke mock saluted and grabbed the sleeve of Wells’s shirt again to drag him out of Jaha’s office and back into the hallway.

Wells immediately turned to walk away to his next class to avoid facing her wrath but Clarke quickly grabbed him by the soggy blue collar of his shirt and pulled him back.

“Surprise,” he grimaced and Clarke whacked his shoulder in annoyance.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew somebody!”

“I don’t! Just-” he sighed, “Well, I do. But he didn’t really specifically say that he wanted to join, just that he liked music and that it looked like an interesting extracurricular activity-”

“When!?”

“God, Clarke! I dunno,” Wells rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and turned away to avoid her glare, “He’s just this guy I know from mathletes. He didn’t even say he could sing! Just that his friend is in this band and that he manages, and that he may or may not be interested- and it might just be our best shot.”

“His friend?”

“His friend.”

“His friend is interested in joining glee club,” Clarke speculated, scratching her chin in a way that made Wells chuckle, “What is the name of this friend you speak of?”

“Bellamy Blake.”

“Bellamy Blake?”

“Yes, Clarke!” Wells grinned, finally returning her shove to the shoulder, “Stop parroting me!”

“I’m not parroting you!” she replied, now smiling a little herself, “I’m clearly musing.”

Wells snorted, “Musing?”

“Now who is the one parroting?”

“Pshh, okay you win, alright?” Wells folded his arms across his chest and looked down the empty expanse of the hallway secretively before turning back to her, “And I said maybe. It was just sort of a passing comment.”

“Gotcha,” Clarke responded, though she hadn’t really caught that last part. Most of her mind was already preoccupied with trying to piece together an image of what this so-called “Bellamy Blake” could possibly look like. If the person managing his band was a mathelete then this would be a total cakewalk. All she needed was a location.

Wells raised an eyebrow at her and she raised her own right back. This was a thinking process.

“So,” Clarke finally concluded, “Where can I find this ‘Bellamy Blake?’”

 

\-------------------------

 

She was looking for someone musically talented, so the school auditorium had definitely been deemed appropriate for the occasion. Wells had no clue what this guy looked like but Clarke was sure she’d find a way to work around that. Nothing would stop her from saving glee club and proving principal Jaha wrong.

It was after school hours and this was supposedly the time Bellamy’s band held their practice but weirdly enough, there was already another mismatched looking group of students playing loudly at centre stage when she slipped past the double doors and into the theatre room. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness but she barely spared them a passing glance, and instead wandered down the large set of stairs and began scanning the seats for anyone that fit her very own Bellamy Blake description- which wasn’t very difficult as a matter of fact. She was fairly confident in her own (very) perceptional, people spotting skills.

_And bingo._

There was a guy sitting in the front row of the auditorium that perfectly fit Clarke’s not entirely (but fairly) accurate idea of what this Bellamy person would look like. He wore a mint green button up that was tucked into his jeans and his dark hair fell over his forehead neatly but effortlessly. He was definitely a lot smaller than she had initially imagined in her head but that didn’t matter in the slightest. All she really needed was his voice and his commitment and this would totally be a go.

There was a strum of a guitar and a loud scream of _“kick it!”_ and the people on stage were off. Clarke tried to ignore the screams of the lead vocalist over their music as she hatched a short plan in her head of how to introduce herself but it turned out to be a bigger task than she initially expected.

“ _Hello!_ ” she half whispered, half yelled to the boy over the rowdy bunch of students playing on stage. She frowned at how out of tune most of it sounded but she recognized the song almost as soon as she slid into the front row with ‘Bellamy.’

Fight for your right (to party) by the Beastie Boys. Excellent choice, not so excellent execution.

“Hello?” the guy replied, looking slightly like a deer caught in the headlights when Clarke was suddenly sitting next to him. Which Clarke agreed was fairly strange and inconvenient, but she seriously had to recruit him before she started running out of time. Clarke wasn’t the type to skip a deadline. And certainly not one as crucial as this.

“I’m Clarke Griffin, student council member and unofficial president of Arkadia High’s glee club!” she held out her hand and he awkwardly shook it, “I’m assuming you’re Bellamy Blake! My friend, Wells, gave me the time slot for your band!”

“Oh, um,” the boy scratched the side of his face awkwardly before finally meeting her eyes and half yelling back, “I’m actually not Bellamy Blake. I’m Monty Green, ya know uh,” he pointed to the clipboard he was holding in his other hand, “Band manager.”

“The mathlete!?”

“Guilty as charged!”

“Huh,” It was Clarke’s turn to feel embarrassed but she shrugged off the heat she felt pooling in her cheeks and tried to maintain eye contact with Monty who looked just about as uncomfortable as she felt, “So who is Bellamy?”

“Um,” he pointed up to the stage and Clarke’s mouth tightened.

_No._

“That’s Bellamy Blake!?”

Monty furrowed his thick eyebrows as if he didn’t know how else to answer her but finally responded with a curt nod. Clarke frowned. This was concerning.

There was no way she would allow that guy singing up there on stage into her glee club. There was absolutely no way. He was terrible! 

And she wasn’t just talking about his scruffy attire either. His face was great but those ripped jeans and that dreadful blue, bomber jacket!? No, no no. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Monty suddenly laughed and Clarke felt her face burning up again, partially in annoyance. Had she said that outloud? “That’s definitely your guy. I know their music stinks but individually, they aren’t too bad.”

Clarke chuckled along with him at that, finally feeling a little at ease as she relaxed back into her seat to watch their performance. Monty didn‘t seem to care about the quality of their music at all, “Aren’t you supposed to be their manager?”

“Yeah, but come on. They totally suck.”

Clarke shrugged but she felt comforted by his honesty all the same, “Can’t say I disagree.”

“Right?” he grinned, “They can’t write their own music either, figures. Jasper tried once but most of his lyrics were un-sing-able garbage so we totally scrapped the idea after that.”

“Jasper?”

“My best friend, over in the back on the drums.”

Clarke sat up straighter in her seat and caught sight of the tall, gangly guy frantically throwing down some sort of uncoordinated beat with his drumsticks in hand. There were a pair of safety goggles placed messily on top of his already scruffy looking hair, and everything else about his appearance seemed incredibly misplaced and disheveled. Clarke was unimpressed.

She scanned the rest of the band again but that only made her disappointment seep in further. She should have known there was no hope from the beginning but she was getting desperate. There was another guy she was sure she recognized from around school on the bass guitar and she was certain he had a bad reputation.

“So…” Monty continued, completely oblivious to the entirely grossed out look she unashamedly wore right then, “What’s your reason for hunting Bellamy down? I mean, you obviously don’t know him personally judging by that mix up just now.”

“I don’t… _know_ him- I don’t know him,” she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, “I just figured-” she sighed and Monty looked concerned, now leaning forward in his chair to hear her better, “My club is kind of going under and I’m in dire need of new members.”

“Glee? Yeah, that was pretty obvious…”

Clarke frowned and put her elbows on her knees to tuck her hands underneath her chin. She felt seriously worn out, “Principal Jaha said that if I don’t recruit at least five new members by tomorrow we are in the can.”

“Yikes.”

“And Wells told me that you guys know each other and that you had a band that could possibly fit our requirements and so on.”

“Oh cool,” Monty nodded, “So you want us to join your club?”

Clarke raised an eyebrow in disbelief at how he chilled out he seemed about the whole ordeal, “I guess?”

“Sounds interesting,” he replied and Clarke was unsure of what to make of it. At first Monty had seemed pretty regular but the more she spoke to him, the more unusual he turned out to be. How could someone appear so relaxed about something like this?

“Can I just ask, why is someone like you-”

“-Managing a band like this?” he finished with a small smile. He spoke quietly so Clarke had to strain to hear him but it seemed like he made no effort at all to make himself heard in the first place, “Jasper.”

“Jasper?”

“Jasper.”

“Okay?”

Monty shook his head laughing as the band finished their song. The guy on the bass guitar was already yelling insults over at the guy beside him on the electric before he had even finished playing the last note and Clarke winced at the loudness of his voice, “It’s a long story.”

“I believe you,” Clarke replied as she watched the real Bellamy hop down from the stage and waltz over to them.

Clarke couldn’t say she wasn’t intrigued by him. The messy hair, neon yellow sneakers, and the ugly bomber jacket together was a combination of clothing she couldn’t quite decipher and it made her feel very self aware of how precisely she had paired up her entire wardrobe. His face was pretty and smattered with freckles that she hadn’t seen before while he was up on stage. 

The rest of the band followed in his footsteps until they were all huddled around her, Jasper still twirling his drumsticks around clumsily in his large hands.

“Who the hell is this blonde chick?” the bass guitarist spat nastily and she instantly remembered where she had recognized him from.

John Murphy. She had seen him hanging around Jaha’s office plenty of times. And as for his reputation, he was fresh back from last year’s suspension- the cuts and yellow bruises from whatever had happened before the new semester still littered his face and made him appear even more ghastly under the multicolored lights hanging from the ceiling of the auditorium. He was a bad guy of sorts and definitely someone Clarke did not want to interact with on a regular basis.

“She’s here to help us,” Monty said again in his quiet voice, easily avoiding the startled looks from the rest of the band.

“Help us?” Jasper looked the most confused and Clarke couldn’t really blame him. She eyed his faded green shrek t-shirt warily before glancing towards the two other band members she was sure were part of the football team (well, definitely if she were going by their matching blue and gold letterman jackets).

Each boy was painstakingly different and their clash in style choices made it very unclear what sort of band they were supposed to be. 

“I’m here to ask you to join glee club,” Clarke said, clear as day.

Murphy snorted loudly before changing his tone once again, “You’re kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a fucking joke.”

“In all honesty, you weren’t my first choice either,” Clarke snapped right back at him and Bellamy rose an eyebrow, clearly surprised at how quick she was to retaliate, “Your band is awful.”

“She’s got a point,” the letterman-jacket wearing, keyboard playing guy said with a shrug, “We all fucking suck.”

“Oh, come on, Miller,” Jasper whined, twirling his drumsticks again, “We aren’t that bad.”

“Says the guy who wanted to name the band ‘Toxic Wingers’”

“It’s creative!”

“What?” Murphy sneered, attention now deterred towards a stubborn looking Jasper, “Pshh, like how ‘Atomic Splurg” was creative last week.”

“I’m just keeping up with the times!”

“Shut up, Jasper,” the other football player mumbled.

“Mbege, you haven’t come up with one name since we started this shit-”

“What do you mean we weren’t your first choice?” Bellamy finally cut in and his band mates quickly fell silent.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off Clarke the entire time they had been facing off and she wasn’t really sure about how she was supposed to take it. His voice was surprisingly deep and his surly body language was unexpected from his attire. Monty was nice so she had no trouble informing him about glee club's “popularity issue,” (or well, in this case it would probably be considered an “unpopularity issue”) but she didn’t know how well the rest of the band would take it. 

Wells was definitely right about one thing. Being in glee left everyone in it wholly exposed to a merciless amount of ridicule throughout the school year, and that hadn’t exactly left the best impression for the rest of the student body.

Clarke decided to be honest.

“We need new members, desperately,” she scanned the band’s faces and placed her hands firmly on her hips before continuing, “Principal Jaha wants to permanently revoke glee club and the only way I can stop him from doing that is by recruiting at least five students before the end of tomorrow. We are running out of time and you guys are technically my only available option right now.”

Bellamy frowned, “There’s no one else you can ask?”

“No,” Clarke shook her head, “I wish I didn’t have to tell you like this but there’s nothing else I can do about it.”

He looked at least somewhat convinced and Clarke chewed her lip anxiously as she waited for him to say something else. Maybe there was some sort of benefit that would come out of this after all. 

Bellamy mumbled something quietly to Miller, the keyboard player, before turning back to face her.

_Here we go._

“Okay, I get it,” he ran his fingers through his messy hair in thought and Clarke tore her eyes away, embarrassed. There was definitely no time to be checking out cute guys when she had a mission to complete, “It sounds like we could really help solve your problem.”

Clarke grinned, suddenly ecstatic, “So you’ll all join!?”

“No.”

He turned away to pack up his stuff that was sitting at the front of the stage and the rest of the band followed, including Monty, who just sent her an apologetic shrug in response before picking up the clipboard off of his seat and heading in the direction of the stairs. Clarke was shell-shocked, mouth gaping open like a fish as she tried to form a coherent sentence in response. 

“Wait, _what!?_ ”

“Did you not hear me?” Bellamy said, shrugging his backpack over his shoulder like he was simply telling her what time it was and not shattering every single one of her dreams on the spot, “I said no damn way.”

“Why the hell not!” Clarke yelled back when he turned away from her again and started walking up the stairs to where the rest of his band mates and Monty were now waiting, “Hey! Asshole! Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

She ran up the stairs to walk alongside him and he stopped and rolled his eyes at her. Clarke bristled. What a fucking pretentious ass.

“You could have told me no from the beginning instead of wasting my time,” she hissed, “Glee is the only thing I can count on and I’ve busted my ass all day looking for you and your crappy band. I’m not letting you leave until you tell me why you are saying no.”

He rolled his eyes again but all it did was make Clarke even angrier. They stood in silence for about thirty seconds, glaring at each other until Bellamy finally sighed and folded his arms across his chest.

“Look, princess,” he started and Clarke huffed in annoyance, “I know you are used to getting your way around here and everything but that’s not how we roll, alright?”

“Pfft,” Clarke sneered, “Then how do you roll?”

“If you want us to join your little club then you’ve gotta follow _our_ terms.”

Bellamy’s voice was smug now and Clarke absolutely detested it. She had thought Murphy was bad enough but apparently he wasn’t nearly as insufferable as Bellamy _“this is not how we roll”_ Blake and his stupid little terms and conditions.

She had no choice but to agree with whatever silly rules he set in order to get the rest of the band to participate and he was clearly aware of this. Clarke, for the first time in a very, _very_ long time, had been beaten at her own game. But there was absolutely no way she about to let this asshole show up and completely ruin her favourite extracurricular club any time soon.

“What are your terms then?” she asked, mimicking his stance and crossing her own arms across her chest.

“Access,” he replied easily, as if he had planning this from the very beginning, “We want access to the better band equipment and the music room, whenever we want.”

Clarke rose an eyebrow in disbelief.

Bellamy caught onto her doubtful expression quickly and responded with a hint of a smile on his lips, “You aren’t the only one who needs that club space, you know.”

She snorted and tapped her fingernails along the side of her arm impatiently, “Auditorium not good enough for you and your terrible band?”

“Meh,” he waved his hand around in the air, the corners of his mouth now pulling upwards to form a particularly cocky smirk that Clarke couldn't force herself to look away from, “It’s not too shabby but I’d prefer a smaller space. Some place me and the guys can jam privately without random people walking in on our practice sessions.”

“Jam?” Clarke laughed breathily, shaking her head at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, “Is that what you call it?”

“Got a problem with that?”

“No,” her lips thinned to stop herself from smiling for real this time, “Not at all.”

“I don’t doubt you.”

“Funny.”

“I’m serious.”

He was flat out grinning now and Clarke forced herself to pretend that he wasn’t incredibly attractive despite his absolutely disgraceful sense in style. _But that could certainly be fixed,_ she thought before pushing the notion away and out of her head. She wasn’t so sure about the rest of the band. Jasper was surely a mess that nobody could just come back from.

Clarke could hear his ‘whispered’ complaints to Monty from the top of the stairs but she ignored them. Murphy was being incredibly vocal from where he was standing, unashamedly calling her every nasty name he could probably think of in that instance.

“I accept your terms,” she sighed, turning away from where the others were standing to completely stare Bellamy in the face, “Welcome to glee club.”

“Thanks, your highness.”

Ugh. Here we go with the pretentious attitude once again. How did Clarke even consider him even a little bit cute when underneath that incredible exterior was an even greater amount of douchey interior and a terrible singing ability. His smile was starting to piss her off again and Clarke barely managed a grimace in response before sighing in defeat and slipping her hand into the pocket of her khakis to pull out the sticky, crumpled up application form Wells had given her earlier that morning.

“Auditions are tomorrow at 11PM. I’ll reserve the whole band a place but you still need to attend so Mr. Kane doesn’t get suspicious and find out about the deal we made. Spread the word, sing something soft, the student requirements are on the form. Read them.”

She pushed the fuzzy, torn up piece of paper into Bellamy’s hand and with the final word in, Clarke turned and marched up the rest of the stairs past the band and pushed open the large set of double doors to leave the auditorium.

She knew Wells would be waiting for her to get back to the club room with good news but this was at best some sort of totally jacked up compromise. It wasn’t as if Bellamy had outright refused her offer completely and it worked out both ways. He would get access to the music room with the addition of an extracurricular blow-off club, and she would be able to keep things running and still have something to put on her college application just in time for next year. It was a win-win situation.

The only teeny tiny little fault in their agreement (that Clarke was willing to completely ignore) was that she was completely in the dark about the rest of the band’s actual singing ability. With that still undetermined this could turn out to be a complete catastrophe! A super, gigantic, _zoo-sized_ catastrophe! What was she even thinking when she made that decision!? There was absolutely no way they would win Nationals now.

She shook her head sadly to herself. It was after-school hours now so the hallway was empty and slighter darker than usual, but Clarke was used to it by now with all the clubs she had participated in last year when she was a junior.

No way. There was no way she could go through with this.

As if it wasn’t enough that Murphy joining glee club literally screamed disaster in it’s fullest and final form, she was absolutely sure that she hadn’t seen any other microphone stands up on that stage while they were performing. So now Clarke was _certain_ there was absolutely no chance this would go down well at all. The situation was messy enough as it was without a rowdy, mismatched bunch of guys being added into the mix.

She couldn’t give up hope so soon but maybe she could just devise another much smaller plan in time for the end of tomorrow. Maybe she would even tell Mr. Kane, after all he would definitely do something about it. Maybe he’d even talk to principal Jaha for her!

Ugh, no. That was also completely out of the question.

She stopped in front of the music room with a sigh.

“It’s a new semester,” she told herself quietly, “I can handle it.”

Clarke closed her eyes and took another deep breath inwards. If she was trying to convince herself then the chances this would actually work out in her favour were most likely extremely slim. She could see Wells through the glass screen on the door when she opened her eyes again and he sent her a short wave in acknowledgement when he spotted her.

There was definitely some sort of solution here, there just had to be. How the hell was she supposed to explain to him that she had just recruited five new students that can’t sing, probably can’t dance, and have absolutely zero idea about how performance value even worked.

Clarke opened the door to the music room solemnly before creeping inside. She needed to prepare or there was surely going to be a lot of work cut out for her in the long run.


	2. With You I'm Born Again (but not for long)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Glee-ful: Clarke and Wells are trying to relaunch the glee club, which isn't looking good for them because Wells's dad is trying to shut them down (yikes). So Clarke went to the auditorium to find Bellamy but Bellamy won't join glee club unless Clarke gives him access to their clubroom and band equipment, which is kind of awkward because he's actually kind of cute. Now Clarke has no choice other than letting him and the rest of his band into the club or she won't be able to get into the college she wants to. And that's what you missed on **GLEE-ful.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah okay, so I was really surprised that the first chapter of this fic got so many hits so quickly because I wasn't expecting all that many so thank you!
> 
> Something I wanted to quickly address before this chapter begins though is that this fic has multiple pairings that will change the longer this progresses. I got a couple of questions about it so I just wanted to make it clear that like in glee, the love interests will be different throughout (though obviously some will stay the same). So that's just a heads up.
> 
> The song sang this chapter can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3obYUimLF_8

Murphy hated school with a dark, fiery passion.

Mostly because it freaking sucked. Which was reasonable, he decided. If he had the choice to not attend then he wouldn’t and that’s why he always chose suspension as the simplest method of accomplishing this. He just wasn’t ready to face the day.

“Fuck,” he spat when he dropped his toothbrush in the sink for the second time that morning and immediately scrambled to reclaim it, wincing at the clattering sound it made when it hit the porcelain.

He avoided looking at himself in the mirror and stuffed the small utensil back into the plastic yellow cup sitting on the sink, already filled with about several other multicolored assortments of $1 toiletries that weren’t his.

It was only the familiar sound of a nearby car horn that shook him out of whatever weird early morning trance he was in and with that, he quickly ditched the small bathroom, grabbed his backpack from where it was sitting on the floor beside the wall, and bolted downstairs and out of the front door. Only slowing down his pace as he rounded the corner of his street and saw Bellamy’s piece of shit car waiting in the exact same place it was every morning. 

“Hey, dickwad,” Murphy greeted Bellamy as he hopped into the passenger seat beside him, “You look like shit.”

Though of course, Murphy didn’t really mean that. It was kind of impossible for someone like Bellamy to look like shit, he just happened to be one of those types of people. The only difference now was that he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked even messier than usual, which was something Murphy definitely considered to be out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, I’m feeling tired as hell,” Bellamy replied, shaking his head pitifully, “I stayed up all night trying to find a soft song to sing for the glee auditions today.”

Murphy scoffed and lifted his eyebrows incredulously, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

He sighed and leaned back against his seat before turning to face the road again, “I really wish I was. I didn’t catch that girl’s name and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Who cares,” Murphy snapped bitterly back, “We don’t even know her.”

“Well, I’d like to get to know her.”

“She’s privileged.”

“She seemed really passionate about her club.”

Murphy’s felt his face begin to heat up and his stomach churned unpleasantly, so he turned away from Bellamy to stare out of the passenger window instead. 

It wasn’t as if Bellamy hadn’t spoken about girls before but something about the angry blonde they’d met during band practice yesterday didn’t exactly sit right with Murphy. He didn’t like the way the other had looked at her when she’d taunted him about his singing abilities, it was gross. Bellamy had shot her a smile that he usually only reserved for private jokes, and Murphy didn’t understand what the blonde girl had done to earn that sort of recognition from someone as self-contained as him.

They stopped off at Jasper’s house next and Murphy tried to ignore the way he and Monty squashed into the back of Bellamy’s car together. Jasper didn’t really seem to notice the way Monty tensed up when their thighs pressed together in their close proximity but Murphy definitely did. He wasn’t exactly discreet about it.

“Yo,” Jasper finally greeted them once he was seated comfortably, leaning forward from where he was sitting to rest his arms on the back of their seats, “You guys come up with a song to sing at auditions yet?”

Bellamy shot Murphy a smug look and the latter scowled in annoyance.

“It’s a surprise,” he grinned, tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel with his fingers, “Why? What did you pick?”

Jasper snickered and Monty rolled his eyes, “You gotta wait and see. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“Probably because whatever you’ve come up with is a load of crap,” Murphy replied and Jasper gasped theatrically and placed his hand over the logo on his spiderman t-shirt.

“Somebody definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Monty grinned and leaned forward in turn, “So you haven’t decided on a song?”

“No way,” Murphy shook his head and turned to face the window, already opting to ignore any more sorts of ‘glee discussion’ for the rest of the day, “It’s not like it actually matters. We’re already in and the only reason why I’m not kicking your asses about it is because we need new band equipment.”

“So no song?”

“No song.”

It wasn’t as if Murphy really gave a crap anyway. He’d done some thinking about it overnight and had ultimately decided that he didn’t give a shit about what the nameless blonde girl thought of his singing abilities. So he had no clue why the others were suddenly so gung-ho about a pathetic singing club that probably made no difference to their high school experience whatsoever.

The sudden glee club enthusiasm was cranked up a couple more incredibly obnoxious notches once Bellamy had picked up Miller and Mbege from their own respective houses. And Murphy was beginning to grow extremely tired of hearing about what songs everybody was going to sing (with the exception of Monty, who had assured them that there was no way in hell he was going to get up on that stage in fear of deafening everybody in the entire theatre room). 

“So what’s going to happen to the band now that we’re all a part of glee club?” Miller asked nonchalantly and Bellamy frowned as he glanced at his wing mirror.

“We keep going. We’ve got open access to the music room now so we can be part-time glee, full-time ‘Toxic Wingers.’”

“What?” Mbege raised an eyebrow, “I thought our name was ‘Extraterrestrial Idiots?’”

“Uh, no,” Jasper shoved his side and leaned forward again, squashing Monty’s face against the window when his elbow accidentally connected with his cheek. He didn‘t apologise, “I changed our name right before the new semester started, remember? We’re ‘Radioactive Fuckers’ now.”

Everybody in the car groaned.

“I reminded you during yesterday’s practice!” he continued, and Monty shook his head, finally reaching up to pry Jasper‘s arm away from his face, “Come on! It’s better!”

“No,” Bellamy’s eyes widened as he made their last turn towards the school parking lot, “It’s really not.”

Murphy hated to admit it but this argument was unfortunately a regular thing for them. Jasper’s ironically BAD band names were becoming something of a reoccurring habit, and it was something they had all come to accept when the sophomore had somehow moseyed his way into their small group of friends and dragged an unsuspecting Monty along for the ride.

Originally the group had only consisted of Murphy, Miller, and Mbege (better known as ‘Triple M’) who were more infamously known for being terrifying over everything else. Miller and Mbege had been on the football team since freshman year and were intimidating by default, while Murphy had been better known for upkeeping such a bad reputation. He had been sent to the principal’s office more times than he could count and had been suspended more than once for his ‘disregard of the rules and inappropriate behaviour.’ 

Oh, and fighting. He tended to fight _a lot._

They had met Bellamy about a year later, when Murphy was a junior and Miller and Mbege were sophomores. Bellamy had transferred over from another a school, insured himself a place on the football team with the others, and it had all sparked from there. Just like that.

The six of them went their separate ways when they arrived in front of the school and Bellamy parked his car in the almost empty lot. Most of the others decided to head into the building early but Murphy made a quick diversion and instead, made his way around the back of the school and towards the large bins next to the exit.

Emori was waiting for him beside the large wire fence in her too-big leather jacket and ugg boots, and Murphy smiled when he saw her. It had been a while. She’d sent him a text earlier that morning with her location and he felt glad to be greeted with a friendly face for once.

“Hey,” she waved at him with the hand that wasn’t in her pocket and he quickly returned it, making his way over to where she was leaning back against the outside wall of the building, “Nice bruises, who’s the lucky asshole?”

“Some fucking douchebag who stole my wallet,” he replied and she raised both eyebrows skeptically so he continued, “I didn’t see you here yesterday.”

“I bunked off. Went for a joyride around town.”

“Nice way to start your senior year.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?” she scoffed at him and Murphy simply shrugged, “I mean, getting suspended right before the end of last semester, Murphy? Seriously? It‘s your final year.”

Murphy didn’t think it mattered too much but Emori seemed more concerned about this than anything he usually did.

“Your face looks fucked up,” she continued, now shrugging her arm out of her pocket and playing with bindings she had placed over the stump where her hand used to be, “What did your friends say?”

“Nothing. They probably don’t give a fuck.”

It wasn’t the truth and Emori obviously knew that, going by the look of disbelief she shot him after he’d spoken. Miller and Mbege had asked what had happened to him as soon as they saw the cuts on his face and Monty wouldn’t stop shooting him concerned glances during practice yesterday. Bellamy had helped patch him up his wounds but he didn’t say anything or ask any questions when he did so. He was probably used to it by now and for some reason, Murphy thought that sort of indifference kind of stung. Though, if asked he’d never ever admit it.

“You’re pissed off about something again,” Emori frowned when he pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket and leaned back against the wall next to her to light one, “It’s written all over your fucked up face.”

“Wow, you’re like a modern day Sherlock Holmes,” he replied sarcastically as he held the roll-up to his lips and took a drag, “Thanks for the observation.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re welcome.”

They stood there in silence for a couple of minutes, Murphy smoking and Emori staring up at the clouds, until she took a deep breath inwards and turned to face him again.

“You wanna tell me what’s bugging you?”

“Kinda,” he took another drag.

“Then talk.”

“Okay, two things,” Murphy began, waving his cigarette around in the air for a second as he collected his thoughts, “First of all, I’m joining glee club.”

Emori snorted loudly in disbelief, “Fuck off.”

“It’s true,” he sighed and she shot him a partially confused, partially disapproving look, “We were pushed into it by a tiny, annoying, prissy little blonde girl and Bellamy is absolutely _smitten_ with her.”

“Gross.”

“I know right?” Murphy shook his head in disgust, “She came by practice yesterday and offered to give us complete access to the music room and all the band equipment if we joined her shitty club.”

“Ew.”

She was laughing again now and Murphy told her to shut up. It probably sounded funny to her, but after enduring a thirty minute car ride with six annoying guys who wouldn’t shut up about their song selection for an audition Murphy wasn’t really sure he even want to go to in the first place, it wasn’t exactly a topic worth dwelling on.

She nudged his arm, “So what’s the second shitty thing you wanted to tell me?”

He coughed uncomfortably and she rose an eyebrow, waiting for him to answer the question. Murphy sighed and tossed his cigarette to the ground, quickly grinding the butt under his shoe before Emori could ask anything else.

“A really weird, unexplained, much darker part of me kind of wants to do it.”

 

\-------------------------

 

Throughout their short lived amount of time spent together, Clarke had discovered that Monty was surprisingly easy to talk to. He was still a little quiet but it wasn’t unpleasant in the slightest and ultimately she had decided, that after everything that had happened yesterday, she really appreciated his company.

“We’ve still got a few more fliers left to go,” he said and Clarke nodded, looking up at the cheap bulletin board they had now smattered with about several glee club audition notices that Wells had printed out and copied for her earlier that morning (as per her request).

“I think we’re done here,” she replied, checking her watch for probably the millionth time that day, “Auditions start in fifteen minutes so hopefully this encourages people to come along last minute.”

Monty nodded and glanced around the crowded hallway nervously.

They were on break and Clarke had seized this last opportunity to get the word out, with the help of her great, small, new friend. Well, maybe he wasn’t that small. They were nearly the same height after all. But being a few years younger than her, Clarke had decided that it was in her best interest to take Monty under her wing while she still had the chance. She was a model student, it was in her nature!

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to be doing this?” he asked, peering around again, “We’ve stuck them up in every single part of the school.”

“Of course!” Clarke agreed automatically, even though she wasn’t entirely sure herself. Why would this be against school policy anyhow? It wasn’t like she was promoting anything un-school related or inappropriate. She was just promoting her club like many other students did on a daily basis!

“Just tack the rest up here,” she pointed to the last available space left on the bulletin board and Monty complied, standing on his tiptoes to reach the only empty place they had spared in their haste to get the fliers up on time.

At first, Clarke didn’t understand why Monty didn’t want to join glee with the rest of the band but he insured her that he wasn’t cut out for singing and instead preferred to work on the sidelines, which was something she respected greatly. She knew performing wasn’t for everybody and it was nice of him to help contribute to the cause anyway, even if he wasn’t on the front lines with the rest of them.

“It’s time to go,” she nudged his shoulder with a smile and the two of quickly made their way over to the auditorium on the other side of the school.

It was dark again like Clarke expected but to her surprise it wasn’t completely empty. Bellamy was sitting at the front of the stage, feet swinging over the edge as if he had been waiting there a while. 

Clarke wasn’t exactly sure about what he was waiting for, but judging by the look he gave her when she walked in, there definitely had to be something.

“Can we talk?” he asked and she frowned in confusion until he nodded curtly towards Monty, “Privately.”

Monty rose both eyebrows (probably in annoyance) but he didn’t say anything, instead opting to pat Clarke on the shoulder and leaving the auditorium promptly as if this were a regular occurrence. Clarke hoped it wasn’t. 

“What do you want?” she responded and he jumped down from his seat as she headed down the stairs towards him, “If you’re backing out now I-”

“I’m not backing out.”

He looked sheepish, which was definitely new. He also looked a bit more worn out than yesterday, his hair was so disheveled that Clarke chalked it up to the result of running his hand through it so many times today.

She approached him cautiously, “If you aren’t backing out…then what _do_ you want to talk about?”

“You have a song picked out for auditions, right?”

Clarke rose an eyebrow, “Of course.”

“This probably sounds ridiculous, I mean. I don’t even know your name but…”

“Yes?”

“I, uh- I spent all night thinking about it and I decided that I kind of wanted to sing a duet,” Bellamy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before adding, “With you.”

Oh.

“ _Oh,_ ” Clarke swallowed loudly and tried not to let her intrusive thoughts about how attractive she still thought he was get in the way of her creative vision, “You want to sing with- uh, with me.”

He was avoiding her eyes but nodded quickly all the same, clearly embarrassed about the entire situation. But then again, so was she.

“What song?” she asked, ignoring the heat that was now pooling into her cheeks when he glanced back hopefully.

“With You I’m Born Again. 1979. Billy Preston-”

“And Syreeta Wright. Yes, I know it.”

“So will you-”

“Yes,” Clarke blinked quickly, surprised by her own answer, “Yes, I’ll sing with you. And my name, um, my name is Clarke, by the way.”

She shook her head incredulously. God, she was such a loser, why had she said yes so quickly!? He was going to think she was overeager and then there would be no way he’d ever want to sing with her ever again and- ohhhh no, was she blushing? She was totally blushing. This was seriously humiliating.

“Are you guys done yet!?” Monty called out to them in his quiet voice from where he was now standing at the top of the stairs, one arm holding the door to the auditorium open, “The rest of the guys are here!”

“Great,” Clarke grumbled, trying to force away the redness in her face as fast as she possibly could before yelling back up to Monty, “Send them down!”

The band complied and Clarke felt her pressure ease up a bit when she caught sight of Wells trailing behind at the back. He was carrying a clipboard under his arm and there was black ballpoint pen positioned carefully behind one of his ears.

“Mr. Kane told me that we could conduct auditions today!” he informed Clarke excitedly when he’d reached her, “We don’t have to audition today because our numbers are already so low, we have a guaranteed place.”

Clarke’s thin eyebrows rose in surprise. She snuck a glance over towards where Bellamy was setting up before turning back to face Wells, who was now awaiting her reply with a keen eye.

“I- uh, I kind of promised someone I’d sing with them today.”

It was Wells’s turn to look shocked now, but he seemed to approve either way. He followed the direction of Clarke’s gaze when she peered over at Bellamy again before smirking down at her knowingly.

“You like him.”

“ _Shut up,_ I don’t!” Clarke hissed back and Wells started to laugh, “Shhh- Oh my god, Wells! I’ve known him for like one day and he didn’t even know my name until five seconds ago!”

Wells’s smirk suddenly changed into a smile, “So you think he’s cute then?”

“We are just going to sing a duet together, okay?” she huffed, “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure it doesn’t.”

“Seriously, Wells. Shut up.”

He was kind of a jerk to Monty anyway, she remembered, and that was totally not cute.

Wells decided the auditions were best done one by one. She spoke briefly with Bellamy about who would get what part of their song but it was quickly organized and even that much had made Clarke feel a lot better about where they stood in terms of dynamics. Jasper was first up and had apparently figured that he’d stun them by singing a bunch of cheesy songs from old kid’s cartoons (which Clarke did not find inherently funny at all). And in the end, Wells had to cut him off short but it was more of a benefit than a drawback. Miller was next and, unsurprising to Clarke, he sang a simpler, more modern song on the piano that she was shocked to find she didn’t actually hate. Monty had clearly been right yesterday when he’d told her that they produced better music individually.

Mbege wasn’t as talented vocally as Miller or shockingly even Jasper, but he sang to the best of his ability, which was good enough for Wells (Clarke wasn’t so sure). But when Murphy came on stage, Clarke found herself pleasantly surprised. She’d never thought she’d ever admit it out loud but.

John Murphy could actually sing.

“Incredible,” Clarke chuckled to herself from where she was sitting beside Wells at the front of the auditorium, “He was the best so far.”

“I’m just as surprised as you are,” Wells shook his head in disbelief, jotting down a few notes on the clipboard, “There could have been a bit more enthusiasm in his performance but his voice-”

“-Was a surprise, right?” Monty finished from where he was seated next to Clarke.

Where the heck had he popped out from!?

She furrowed her eyebrows together in thought, “Yeah. Totally.”

“It looks like you’re next,” he whispered when Bellamy walked up onto the stage and Clarke shivered involuntarily, “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” she probably needed it.

She stood up slowly and made her way over towards where Bellamy was already waiting. Her shoes clacked a bit as she walked onstage but maybe the loudness of it was being projected into her head out of fear of the unknown. Fear- or maybe it was anticipation? Anticipation of singing with someone new for the first time since last semester.

The music began and Clarke counted herself into the song in her head. She saw Bellamy gulp and her hands suddenly felt really sweaty.

She could do this.

“ _Come give me your sweetness,_ ” she began, eyes falling closed as she hit the first note, “ _Now there‘s you, there‘s no weakness._ ”

_“Lying safe within your arms, I’m born again.”_  
_“Woman, don’t you know. With you I’m born again.”_

“ _I was half not whole,_ ” they harmonized and Clarke opened her eyes.

Bellamy was staring right back at her but for some strange reason she couldn’t exactly work out, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Just yesterday she’d thought he couldn’t sing to save his life. Hell, she was even debating internally with herself on whether or not this was a good idea but the way his voice blended smoothly with hers made her forget that in an instant.

_“Come show me, your kindness. In your arms, I know I’ll find this.”_  
_“Woman, don’t you know. With you I’m born again.”_

“ _Lying safe with you,_ ” they sang softly together, “ _I’m born again…_ ”

The music faded out and left Clarke feeling lost in whatever quick whirlwind of emotion that song had caused. It wasn’t as if she had never felt this way before but it was definitely something she’d be very willing to repeat.

Bellamy was grinning from ear to ear, face slightly flushed, “You were incredi-”

“Slightly better than I expected,” Clarke cut him off and his smile fell, “You need to work on your tone a bit more when you’re singing. The harmony was good but your pitch was also very inconsistent, but that can be improved.”

She smiled proudly and he shrugged aimlessly before responding with, “…Okay?”

“Bravo!” Wells yelled from the audience while Monty clapped enthusiastically alongside him. Clarke curtseyed towards them, “Brava!”

Bellamy looked slightly more dazed and confused getting off the stage than he did getting on it but Clarke paid no mind. She had felt the same the first time she’d ever truly performed. It felt magical.

“Nice job, everybody!” Wells continued, now waving his clipboard around in the air as Clarke stepped down towards where he was standing, “That wraps up auditions for the day!”

Clarke was about to comment but was interrupted by a loud thud that came from the back of the auditorium. Wells and Monty looked equally as startled by the sound and immediately turned to figure out where it came from when a couple of loud yells started to accompany it.

“Wait-! _Wait!_ ” 

Clarke’s eyes widened when the screaming girl-shaped blur jumped up from where she was crouching and started hopping over lines of theatre seats to make her way to the front of the auditorium to where Wells was standing.

“I want to audition!” she yelled again, jumping over the last row and shaking him by the shoulders, “Please!”

“ _Octavia!?_ ” Bellamy suddenly bellowed and the girl, Octavia, jumped and swore loudly.

“Shit! Dammit, Bell! You almost gave me a heart attack,” she clutched her chest dramatically and Clarke saw Jasper’s eyebrows disappear under his messy fringe at the gesture, “I have a song picked out and everything- please. We showed up here halfway through the performances and we really want to sing!”

Clarke scratched her head in confusion, “ _We?_ ”

Octavia huffed, still trying to regain her breath from all the chair hopping, “Me and-” she waved her hand towards the back of the theatre room, “-my friends. They’re at the back.”

Clarke glanced around the place until she spotted two head-like shapes hiding behind the seats at the back of the auditorium. She was sure one of them mouthed something that resembled the words _‘she’s not our friend’_ but Clarke let that slide for now.

“She’s my sister,” Bellamy sighed and Octavia stuck her tongue out at him, “She probably just followed me here.”

“Uh, no. I totally did not,” she countered back, pulling out a yellow sheet of paper from her pocket and shoving up towards his face, “I saw the fliers stuck up around the school!”

Monty and Clarke quickly high-fived.

“Well you aren’t joining.”

“Actually,” Wells interrupted and Bellamy shot him a death glare, “She can. We need as many members as we can get and if she has a song, I say we let her sing.”

“Now way,” Bellamy scowled.

“Yes way,” Clarke said simply, and Miller snorted from where he was lounging on a chair in the second row, “She has as much of a right to join as you do.”

“If the girl wants to sing then let her sing,” Jasper chipped in from his own seat and Mbege side-eyed him skeptically, “Weren’t you the one who said we’d only be in glee part time, Bellamy?”

Clarke rose both eyebrows at this and Bellamy looked scandalized. Glee wasn’t just a club to Clarke. It was her whole life. She’d rather have members that actually valued their time spent together than some asshole who was just doing it for a free pass at their clubroom. She frowned. Her mind was already made up.

“It’s decided then. Octavia, you’re in.”

 

\-------------------------

 

“John. Please, take a seat.”

Murphy huffed loudly in annoyance and flopped down on the cushiony armchair in front of Principal Jaha’s desk with his legs thrown over one side of the armrest. He had been called into his office for his behavioral evaluation and he wasn’t particularly excited for it after having part of his lunch break taken away for him to do so.

He eyed Principal Jaha’s vomit green, knitted cardigan a little uneasily as he made himself comfortable and settled on staring around at the rest of the small room instead of making any sort of eye contact with the man. He’d rather just get this over with.

“Yo,” he said and Jaha ignored him, “What gives, Mr. man? Why the hell am I here?”

But of course he already knew why. Murphy was used to this. First, Jaha would quiz him about his suspension and ask him what he did during his time away from school. Then, he would ask why he did whatever he did and Murphy would have to fake an apology blah, blah, blah, ‘I’m so very sorry for destroying your perfect school record’ blah, blah. Then Jaha would write some shit down and he would be good to go. 

It was silent for about a two good solid minutes so when Jaha didn’t make any sort of move to speak or answer his question, Murphy took the initiative.

“Am I in trouble again? ‘Cause I’ve only been here for like, a day. So that wouldn’t really make a whole lot of sense unless you’re kicking me out for good, sir?” he chuckled darkly to himself and Jaha finally looked up from whatever he was typing into his computer to stare at him, “Is that what’s happening? You’re finally giving me the boot? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure-”

“It’s your senior year, John,” Jaha interrupted and Murphy scowled in response after being cut off, “We have some important things to discuss about your future…”

He then proceeded to push his keyboard towards the side of his desk and Murphy watched with a keen eye as he pulled out a pamphlet and small stack of papers from the filing cabinet behind him.

“…College in particular.”

Murphy groaned. Emori had brought the same thing up earlier and he was pretty much 1000% sure he didn’t want to hear it again from some weird, old dude wearing an entire outfit crafted out of wool even weirder enviro-crap.

“I figured I could just go to community college,” Murphy shrugged in reply. It wasn’t as if he really cared, “I’m not really qualified to go anywhere else. My grades are fucking shit, sir.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jaha replied, completely oblivious to whatever foul language spewed out of his mouth (or maybe he just didn’t care, go figure), “You still have some time left to improve. Even those who struggle academically can manage to get a place somewhere,” he flipped the pamphlet over, “Another thing you could do to improve your chances at getting into a better program would be to aim for a good report with the addition of some extracurricular work. A school club, maybe. Some sort of way to participate and give back to our community.”

Murphy shrugged again.

“Are their any extracurricular clubs or activities you are interested in joining, John?”

“Well,” he snickered, sliding down further into the chair until his head lay on the armrest and his long legs were up in the air. He picked at the hole in his black skinny jeans and Jaha waited patiently for his answer, elbows resting on top of his desk with both hands resting under his chin, “There is this one club my friends and I are _dying_ to get into to.”

Jaha raised a single eyebrow in surprise, “Really now?”

“Yeah. And by dying, I mean literally selling my entire soul and any parts of my sanity I have left, because it’s a piece of shit club and after I join I will probably never be able to show my face in this school ever again.”

“Interesting,” Principal Jaha quickly grabbed a pen off of his desk and jotted down a few notes on the paper in front of him. Murphy paid no mind, “So what club were you thinking of joining?”

“Glee.”

Jaha stopped writing, pen now paused over the paper, “Glee?”

Murphy flicked the pieces of fluff he’d picked off of his jeans onto the fuzzy, purple carpet and shrugged one shoulder in disinterest, “Yeah. ‘You getting deaf in your old age or something-?”

Jaha shook his head and suddenly fell silent again as he began to write. Murphy just glanced around the room again, keeping his eyes trained on the ugly, colorful décor in his office. The man scratched at the tiny beard on his chin and Murphy tried not to laugh. It totally made him look like a goat. A really boring, annoying goat in a green, knitted cardigan.

“Tell me, John,” he finally responded and Murphy spared him a quick glance, hands now toying with the large crystal paperweight he’d picked up off of Jaha’s desk, “What would you say if I told you I could offer you some more support in getting you into an ideal college?”

“Duh, what do you think I’d say?” Murphy rolled his eyes, “I want it, obviously.”

“So you’d go to great lengths to get it?”

“Sure.”

“How far?”

“Uh,” Murphy rose an eyebrow, “As far as it takes? This is getting kind of weird now, sir.”

Jaha ignored him and stood up from his seat to wander around the room slowly. He trailed his fingertips along the walls of his office before pressing them together thoughtfully, “What if I offered you a deal, see, I believe that a club as time consuming and,” he waved his hand around in the air, “nonsensical as glee could prove to have a very poor standing with a lot of the colleges in our local area.”

He was hovering around in the corner of the room now, admiring a cheap looking, multicolored photo frame, but it was hard to make out the actual photograph from this distance. Murphy put the paperweight carefully back down onto the desk as his eyes traveled over to where Jaha was standing. He swung his legs off of the armrest and sat up properly in the chair, suddenly intrigued by the unexpected change in his principal’s demeanor.

“Yet,” he continued, “The school board refuses to take it off of our registry because it counts as a ‘creative subject…’”

“And you don’t agree with that, sir?” Murphy asked, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“No. I do not,” Jaha scowled darkly and it was the first time Murphy had ever seen him look so forbidding. He smiled and turned to face him, “But that’s where you come in, John.”

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Why me?”

“You want that support don’t you?”

“I do.”

“So are you interested?”

Murphy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. An easy ticket to a better college than he deserved? Did this count as blackmail, or was it a bribe? Jaha was actually offering him a good report in exchange for some sort of ploy to completely shatter the glee club. This was a real moment in time that was actually happening in his life.

He was _very_ interested.

“I am,” Murphy replied cautiously, index finger still trailing down one side of the paperweight, “What do I have to do?”

Jaha smiled, “I need you to keep an eye out, John. Watch over the club for me.”

Murphy snorted, “So I’m a spy?”

“If that’s the way you’d like to refer to it,” he replied, heading back towards his desk to organize his papers. He didn’t maintain eye contact with Murphy when he spoke again, “This stays between you and me.”

“So what?” Murphy sneered, clearly not done yet, “Am I like your personal project now or whatever? I do you a solid so you do me a solid? That doesn’t sound all too principal-y to me, sir.”

“Well, as long as you keep quiet, we won’t have to worry about what’s principal-y, will we, John?”

He grinned nastily before responding, “No, sir. We won’t.”

“So let’s start you off nice and simple,” Jaha rummaged through his desk drawer and pulled out a yellow flier with heading **‘GLEE AUDITIONS’** printed neatly in a large font at the top of the page. 

He placed it on the desk in front of Murphy, “Who is responsible for this?”

 

\-------------------------

 

When Clarke asked him to help her put up fliers around the school, Monty knew that nothing good would come from it.

It wasn’t that he disliked Clarke in any way, shape, or form but he definitely knew from the very beginning that hanging out with her would result in some sort of future problem (and that seriously said something considering that he hung out with someone like Jasper on a daily basis for crying out loud). But detention was definitely not one he’d ever thought he’d be getting himself into.

“I’m really sorry,” she hissed apologetically from the desk beside him for about the seventh time within the hour, “I didn’t think this would happen.”

“So you have said,” he sighed, resting his head against his arms, “Several times.” 

He just wanted to get out of here. It wasn’t as if Monty had never had detention before but he just preferred not to get caught for whatever ‘wrongful’ decision he made, and with Clarke by his side even that much just seemed about impossible.

The empty classroom was silent and unsurprisingly there was only one other person in the room besides themselves, even the teacher who was originally sitting at the front of the room, had vanished within the first forty minutes into their punishment. Monty figured that nobody really wanted to sit through three hours of detention on the second day of the new semester but here he was, soaking miserably in the last remains of his bad accountability.

“I’m _really_ sorry, Monty,” Clarke tried again, leaning forward to catch his eye but it didn’t work, “I’m really, really, super sorry.”

Monty ignored her.

“Please talk to me,” she nudged his shoulder weakly, “I know I dragged you into it but I really want us to be friends or at least on speaking terms with each other.”

The other person, a pretty girl dressed in leggings and a tank top, let out a loud snort of laughter and tried to smother it with a cough, but Clarke quickly caught on. Monty was sure she was going to say something to her for a second, but he quickly scrapped that thought when she caught sight of his face peeking out at her from beneath his arms and went straight back to pestering him.

“Come on, Monty. Please say something.”

“I’m so sorry, Monty.”

“Please talk. I’ll buy you a slushie after school tomorrow.”

“I’m really sorry. I just wanted to get the word out, I didn’t know this would happen.”

“Please.”

“Oh my god, will you just shut up already?” the girl in front of them turned around, fixing Clarke with a sharp glare, “I’m trying to wallow in silence here.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow in response, “Didn’t sound like it when you were laughing at us a few minutes ago.”

Monty lifted his face out of his arms.

The other girl wore an unreadable expression but replied nevertheless, “Actually I was laughing at you, and you alone. Your friend obviously doesn’t wanna talk, right?” She shot Monty a look but he still didn’t have it in him to respond, “See?”

“Well,” Clarke began, obviously not ready to back down yet (which Monty kind of wished she would, because the other girl looked sort of scary), “I don’t think I need a total stranger telling me whether or not my friend wants to talk to me, wait- actually. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“Nope,” the girl replied, quickly turning around to avoid her stare.

“No, wait! I totally do!”

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re Raven Reyes, from the engineering tutorial I took in freshman year,” Clarke said, shaking her head in disbelief. The girl, Raven, tilted her head back to look her in the eye, “You’re the girl with-”

“-With the prosthetic leg, yep. That’s me. Nice talking to ya,’” she went to swivel back round on her chair to face the whiteboard again but Clarke stopped her shortly with a tap on the forearm.

Monty didn’t know why Clarke would ever take a tutorial in engineering but he decided not to question it. Knowing her it was probably just for the accolade.

Clarke sighed and tapped her fingernails along the top of her desk impatiently, “I didn’t mean it offensively.”

“Then in what way _did_ you mean it?” Raven replied, looking unconvinced, “Look, I know about you, alright? You’re the crazy student council girl that everybody warns each other to stay away from. I’m not trying to pick a fight so don’t spin me a sob story about how ‘sorry’ you are, okay? This is my third detention this week so I was just hoping for some peace and quiet this time around but apparently _that_ is too much to ask.”

Monty blinked owlishly in surprise, “Your third detention this week!? School only started yesterday!”

“Ah, so he does speak,” Raven said, grinning this time as she turned around to face them properly again, suddenly surprisingly amiable, “Yup. I got caught lugging my work tools around by a couple of different teachers, it’s like Jaha’s got me on twenty-four hour surveillance or something.”

Monty broke out laughing but Clarke frowned in distaste.

“You sound pretty proud of yourself.”

Raven shrugged, completely oblivious to Clarke‘s disapproving tone, “Jaha’s an ass. He’d throw me in detention for just existing if he could,” she flapped her hand around in the air indifferently, “Forget it. What are you two goody goodies doing in this jail cell anyhow?”

“We were putting up fliers around the school,” Monty admitted, feeling a bit crestfallen again now that the subject had been brought up, “We were trying to save our club.”

He saw Clarke smile and mouth the word _‘our’_ at him from where she was sitting and he felt himself do the same. Maybe he could forgive and forget faster than he thought he would.

“What club?” Raven asked, seeming genuinely interested, “Maybe I can help.”

“It’s just a singing thing,” Clarke shook her head automatically, “We are kind of having some trouble in the numbers department. There’s not a lot you can really do-”

“Cool, what kind of songs do you sing?”

Monty saw Clarke’s eyebrows rise up a great deal at Raven’s newfound friendliness and he honestly felt equally as shocked and surprised. Maybe he had judged her too quickly. Just because she was stuck in this classroom with them didn’t necessarily mean she was a bad person.

“Um,” Clarke opened and closed her mouth wordlessly for a couple of seconds, probably trying to come up with something rational to say in response, “We uh- we sing show tunes, music from the charts, uh, everything. We sing everything.”

“Everything?” Raven smirked and Clarke’s face reddened slightly, “You guys have a sign up sheet I can sign? A tutorial, maybe?”

Clarke broke into a grin at the last part and Monty quietly watched the exchange before burying his head back into his arms. The rest of their conversation about glee club was slightly more muffled now but he was glad that her attention had been diverted away from him and was now being spent telling Raven about all the ‘hardships’ she had already faced so far in the semester.

Monty smiled. Perhaps glee club could be saved after all. 

Maybe it was just a matter of looking for the right people in the right places.


	3. I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Uptown Girl How To Dance With You (because I really like you and she's sort of a jerk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Glee-ful: Murphy teamed up with Jaha to destroy the glee club to get a recommendation letter for college so now he has no choice but to rat out his friends. And Clarke really likes Bellamy and Bellamy sort of likes Clarke but everybody else is kind of oblivious to it, except for Wells, who doesn't really have a lot of speaking lines in this chapter. Monty also secretly likes Jasper and everybody knows except for Jasper himself (who for some reason can't really decide on a band name). And Raven and Octavia have enthusiastically joined glee club, which is really weird because everybody else kind of got forced into it by Clarke, who is still kind of angry about everything. And that's what you missed on **GLEE-ful.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we can get the drama party started (and it only took 3 chapters, wow)!! Shout out to Kathi because tbh this one is mostly for you (and your problematic fave)!
> 
> The song featured in this chapter can be found here!: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UabZ9_qMHN4

Jasper was about 79.8% sure that he was in-like with Octavia Blake.

“She sings like an angel,” he sighed, slamming his locker door shut with a flourish. He was so incredibly peppy (like, peppier than Clarke and Wells combined) and his newfound ‘romantic interest’ just happened to ignite the flame in his heart that had previously been missing, “-And man, Monty- have you seen her hair? It‘s like a beautiful, brown waterfall.” 

“I’ve seen it,” Monty replied sardonically, lips thinning in what Jasper assumed was vexation, “Anyway, have you finished your English assignment yet? I haven‘t started on the summary part but-”

“How the hell am I supposed to talk to her, man? She’s _way_ out of my league.”

Monty sighed at the interruption and didn’t respond.

It was their lunch break so they were on their way over to glee club and Jasper just didn’t have the self restraint to keep himself from talking about the new surge of affection he felt towards Bellamy’s younger sister. He didn’t understand why Monty was always so unresponsive when he brought her up but in the end he just chalked it up to Monty being disinterested because he didn’t have a crush of his own. Clearly he had no idea about what it was like to feel that way about someone.

He still hadn’t replied by the time they reached the music room so Jasper decided that for now, trying to get his best friend invested in his love life was probably a lost cause. He at least hoped he’d be happy for him when he finally asked out his future girlfriend-to-be. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it? Nah.

Glee club had been fully functional for a complete two weeks now so everyone had quickly grown familiar with each other in the short expanse of time spent together. And now, even Clarke didn’t seem as bad as she did originally. With the addition of Octavia and her two friends, Harper and Monroe, who they had caught sneaking around during auditions, things already seemed a lot more efficient than they had been in the beginning. And with Raven’s attendance as an added bonus, the future definitely looked a lot brighter for the whole lot of them.

“Glad you two could make it on time,” Mr. Kane said, pointing to his wristwatch as Jasper and Monty took their seats in the second row of chairs they’d all placed in the music room, “We were just about to start.”

Mr. Kane was Jasper’s history teacher but incidentally he was also the show choir director, (as they had recently learned on the first official day of club activities) and had been for the last four years. At first it was kind of weird because Jasper had barely spoken more than two words to him outside of class but he slowly began to get used to his ongoing enthusiasm and involvement in the club, as did the rest of them.

“Mr. Kane,” Clarke raised her hand from where she was sitting next to Wells at the front of the room, “Before we start, Bellamy and I would like to sing a little piece we put together.”

Everyone in the room began to protest. They were used to Clarke’s constant interruptions by now but it didn’t mean they got any less annoying and tiresome. She consistently had something she was _‘just dying to say’_ before club activities well and truly started and it always took up a lot of the time they were all supposed to use while they were performing together.

Mr. Kane looked a little lost on how to reply for a moment but he responded anyhow, if not a little uncomfortably, “Uh, another duet, Clarke? You’ve sung one almost everyday this week.”

“Yes, well. Bellamy and I have been trying to do some work on his vocal range and the only way we can do that is by practicing,” she replied, hands placed stiffly on top of her knees, “And trust me, he needs all the practice he can get.”

Bellamy didn’t add anything to this but he grunted half-assedly all the same. Clearly he couldn’t care less about whether he sung or not and Murphy groaned loudly in annoyance from where he was seated beside Raven. He was sitting halfway down his chair and the position looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“Sir, you aren’t gonna allow this, right?” he scowled, now pointing an accusing finger towards Clarke, who immediately opened her mouth to argue right back, just daring him to push her buttons, “Her majesty’s bleached-blonde asshole over here has been hogging all of our quality singing time. What about the rest of us, huh?”

“It’s not my fault that I take the initiative to put forward my own creative perspective,” Clarke angrily stood up from her chair, swiveling round on one foot to shoot Murphy a dangerous looking glare, “The only thing I’m guilty of here is putting my talent to good use.”

“Oh, you mean that warbly, old, harpy screech you call your singing voice?”

“Can you just be quiet for once or do you always run your mouth twenty-four/seven?”

“I’m trying my best but your hideous bowtie is provoking me.”

“Ugh!” Clarke looked absolutely scandalized at this observation and placed her hand over the offending red, checkered bowtie defensively. Jasper had to admit, it did look pretty ridiculous. Especially with her khakis and green, argyle sweater thrown into the mix along with it. 

“You’re impossible!”

“Mr. Kane,” Miller raised his hand innocently and everyone in the room turned their attention towards him. He didn’t speak all too often, but whenever he did, everybody made sure to tune in, “As much as I’d hate to agree with Murphy, he kind of has a point,” Clarke shot him a dirty look, “Uh, not about the bowtie but about the singing. None of us have really had a chance to perform yet and most of us still haven’t sang a solo piece since auditions.”

There were murmurs of agreement all around and Murphy smirked at Clarke.

“Hold on. You guys are blaming Clarke for this?” Bellamy finally spoke up, though he still seemed partially uncaring for the most of it. Maybe it was just his tone of voice, (Jasper considered this) or the surly way he folded his arms across his chest in disinterest and stared off towards the whiteboard as a collective, “It’s not like the rest of you have actually stood up to take the initiative around here.”

Murphy boo’d and threw a crumpled up piece of paper at his head.

“Well, who else are we supposed to blame?” Mbege suddenly input, “She’s the one who asked us to sign up but what’s the point of being here if nobody else is allowed to sing? Mr. Kane, you’ve gotta admit, that’s pretty unfair.”

There was another chorus of ‘yeahs’ and ‘totally’ and Mr. Kane sighed, dragging a hand down his face exasperatedly.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” he said, holding a finger up to silence the growing conflict that was about to break out in the club room. He walked over to the whiteboard on the opposite side of the room and pulled out a blue marker from his pocket, hastily scrawling over the board in a desperate attempt to silence the students, “Response. That’s your next assignment.”

“Seriously?” Raven scoffed, “Response? What, like a reaction?”

He underlined the word on the board and Jasper broke out into a wide grin.

“Yes, just like that! But this is not just any sort of response,” Kane continued, “Because of all the arguments I’ve seen recently between a lot of you guys in here, I want you to sing a song directed towards someone in this room. I need you to sing a song that tells this person exactly how you feel. Think about something they have said or done in the past that may have upset or offended you, something they did that brought you intense joy, maybe even an action they performed that may have changed the way you see them- and find a song to express that.”

This was exactly what he needed.

Jasper glanced over towards where Octavia was sitting in her cheerios outfit across the room, idly brushing her hair with the floral pink brush he saw her take out of her bag a couple of times during the week. This was his chance to get into her good books. He could use this assignment to find a song to serenade her with and she would be so flattered that she would fall for him straight away, giving him complete leeway to ask her out! Jasper could see it now, it was the perfect plan.

“ _Monty,_ ” he hissed, nudging his friend with his elbow until he turned around to shoot him an irritated look, “I just had an amazing idea.”

“Please don’t tell me it has something to do with getting Octavia to like you.”

“No. Maybe. Okay, yes it is but look, it’s not gonna be like last time,” Jasper assured him, and Monty grimaced in response, “Trust me.”

He turned back to face the front of the room again. Mr. Kane was making some speech about good quality song choices and what would ‘really stand out’ but Jasper wasn’t all that interested. There was already a plan forming in his head (a particularly brilliant one if he did say so himself).

The last time Jasper had attempted to woo Octavia was during gym class about a week ago, she had cheerleading practice around the same time so they were both sharing the field outside of the main block. He didn’t like to think about how it had turned out in too much detail but the whole plan resulted in Monty having to help to the nurse’s office and Octavia turning him down. Jasper cringed.

He would pre-plot things a little bit more carefully this time.

“Do I really have a choice?” Monty finally responded, placing his elbow on his knee with one hand tucked underneath his chin, “Am I going to regret becoming part of this?”

“No. And probably. But come on,” Jasper whined and shook his shoulder, “ _Help me._ ”

“Jasper-”

“Please.”

Monty furrowed his brow and silently folded his arms across his chest thoughtfully. Jasper didn’t understand why he was so reluctant to help. They had gotten into messier situations than this and it wasn’t as if this was completely impossible to accomplish.

Jasper tried again, “I’ll buy you icecream after school.”

Monty sighed quietly, but something that looked like an inkling of interest now shone in his dark brown eyes, “What did you have in mind?”

It looked like, with enough pushing and some complaining on his own part, Monty wasn’t that difficult to inspire after all. Jasper grinned and patted him on the back. 

“That’s my boy.” 

 

\-------------------------

 

“Hey! Hey, Clarke! Wait up for a second!”

Clarke turned at the sound of Bellamy’s voice, slightly confused at why he was calling her so urgently. She was on her way out of the clubroom with Raven by her side and they both stopped in the middle of the hallway while they waited for him to catch up.

“What’s up?” Clarke asked when he finally stood in front of them, clad in his blue and gold letterman jacket and skinny jeans. She thought he looked particularly dashing like this but Clarke was a busy woman. There wasn’t any time to ogle cute guys when she had to get to the library before lunch break was over, she needed to check out some books for her next class.

“I uh, I just wanted to say that I don’t blame you for the singing thing,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly when Raven shot him a menacing look from beside Clarke, “I mean, they were wrong to act like you were hogging all the practice time on purpose- not that you _were_ hogging the practice time on purpose, just uh-”

Clarke didn’t really know what he was trying to say but _no,_ she wasn’t offended. Which was surprising, but she figured it had something to do with the stiff expression on his face and the antsy way he was wringing his hands. He didn’t seem nervous but he did seem sort of uncomfortable for some reason. She wasn’t exactly sure how to respond so Raven took the initiative to do so for her.

“Okay, pretty boy. We get it,” she patted him on the shoulder when he stumbled over his next words, “We’ve got places to be so Clarke accepts your apology.”

“What?” Bellamy quickly composed himself, “But I wasn’t apologizing.”

“Oh, okay. Great, see you later then!” she hastily replied, sending a quick wave over her shoulder and grabbing Clarke by the wrist to tug her down the rest of the hallway before the latter could respond. They split up when Clarke finally got to the library and Raven trailed off towards her locker after giving her a short hug goodbye.

Clarke was grateful for the friendships that came with being part of the glee club. It sort of quelled the previous uneasiness she used to feel when she was walking by herself in the hallways. The fear of getting slushied wasn’t quite as strong as it normally was. So that was sort of an added bonus too.

The school library wasn’t anything special but it was pretty good place to get things done. Whether it was late assignments, or unfinished homework, or even some light reading to prepare for her next class, Clarke felt at ease there. Inanimate objects or not, no matter what, books always came through for her.

She dropped her backpack down onto one of the empty tables at the back of the small room and stalked off towards the bookshelves to pick out the stuff she needed for her English class. They were doing Shakespeare and though Clarke wasn’t particularly interested in writing, she was passionate about drama and theatre work, so surely some sort of acting challenge would be involved in her near future.

She plucked out the books she needed to check out and headed back to the table to collect her things. Her mind traced back to Bellamy and his extremely rare and slightly random urge to apologise to her about his friends when she left the choir room. He was sweet, she supposed, even if he was kind of an asshole more often than he was actually nice. Plus, she had seen the way that he always glanced at her in the hallway when she was passing by. And even the cold glares Murphy consistently shot her from Bellamy’s side couldn’t ruin _that_ for her.

It was nice being liked for once, but she wished life could be that kind to her all the time.

“ _Crap-_ ” she swore when she went to turn around and knocked right into the girl standing in front of the bookshelf behind her. The books she was holding slipped out of her arms and onto the carpet with a thud. And when she looked up from where it had landed she was met with a glare that rivalled any member of Triple M’s altogether, “I’m really sorry, I-”

“Save it.”

Clarke blinked in surprise. The girl had an accent.

“You‘re clumsy and your feet are enormous,” she continued before barging past Clarke to head towards the library exit, “I’m not interested in your apology.”

“Excuse me!?” Clarke shot her the most offended look she could possibly muster but all she got was a shushing gesture from a student sitting at the table behind her, “When someone says sorry the sociable reply would be to say _‘that’s okay’_ or _‘no worries,’_ not whatever-” she shook her head, “Not whatever awful thing you just said!”

The girl turned around, the complicated braid in her hair swinging off of her shoulder with her sudden movement. She obviously had not been expecting Clarke to call her out if the look on her face was anything to go by.

Her glare hardened, “You mean the _American_ reply?” 

“No, I mean the courteous reply,” Clarke huffed, “Though you don’t seem to know anything about either.”

The girl narrowed her eyes and slowly walked back towards Clarke to size her up. If Clarke was intimidated, she was trying her best not to show it.

She stepped up close to her face until they were eye to eye and Clarke gulped. The air was suddenly filled with tension and it felt like the girl’s piercing blue eyes were staring straight into her soul but she knew not to back down. She’d been faced with much bigger bullies. She wasn’t scared. She could totally handle this.

“And what do you really know about me, hm?” she tilted her head to the side and her braid fell back over her shoulder, “Tell me, American girl.”

“I know that you’re French,” it was silent for a few more seconds and Clarke stared straight back, unafraid, “And that your manners need some work.”

The blue-eyed girl continued to stare her down for a couple more moments and Clarke was only slightly afraid that she was going to be leaving the school library with a black eye, until the girl suddenly bent down and picked up the forgotten books from the floor.

“And you’re very outspoken,” she handed the books back to Clarke, “I like that.”

Clarke felt her face heat up but for some reason she couldn’t force herself to look away. If she had harbored any doubt towards liking girls before then it had definitely vanished in an instant. The other's sentences were shortly structured but they only seemed that way by choice. There was something intriguing about it.

“I’m Lexa,” she continued when the other didn’t go to say anything, “I started here this semester. I’m a junior. I think. The system here still confuses me.”

“Oh,” Clarke replied, trying to push down the fluttery feeling in her chest, “If you ever need help figuring out all the high school basics I could always help you out- that is, if you ever need it, um- I’m Clarke. Senior and student council member.”

She held out her hand and much to her own surprise, Lexa actually shook it. Eye contact still completely in tact the entire time she had been speaking.

“Ah,” she waggled her finger at her, suddenly not as hostile as she had been before, “Yes, I have seen you on the bulletin board.”

Clarke’s heart suddenly swelled with pride. Someone had finally noticed her position on the school bulletin board! Suck it, Wells!

“You are the one with the polka-dot green tie, no?” she suddenly laughed and Clarke’s face dropped back into it’s default frown in an instant.

“Yes-” she sighed. She suddenly wished she had never worn that tie on picture day last year, “I’m sort of considered an unorthodox dresser.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can see that,” Lexa chuckled again, looking her up and down for a second before patting her pile of books, “It’s cute, very original. I like the bowtie.”

Clarke didn’t know exactly what to say but she settled on a quick thank you. Not many people had positive things to say about the way she dressed so it was sort of a shock to receive a compliment from someone as beautiful as the girl in front of her. Lexa was dressed in almost all black with a whole lot of dark eye makeup to top it off, and though all it really did was make her come across that much more intimidating, Clarke was still in absolute awe of her.

“What are your plans this weekend?”

“I, uh- _I’m sorry!?_ ” Clarke spluttered and the person behind them shushed her again.

“That’s okay,” Lexa grinned and Clarke realized she was mimicking her words from before, “But really, are you busy?”

“Not on Saturday-” Clarke’s eyes were wide. Was this seriously happening? “Every other day is reserved for my extracurricular clubs and activities.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow but she didn’t look freaked out, which was a good sign. A very good sign.

Clarke’s extra activities and after school clubs ranged from difficult to near impossible throughout the week. Every morning she would wake up at 5am, sunlight pouring through her lace curtains and illuminating her perfectly clear skin, just as a strong spotlight always should (and as she imagined it would when she had finally made it to Broadway). She would then get up and mark off another day on the _Wicked_ calendar she had hung on the wall across from her bed with the gold glitter pen she kept on her desk, before saying a cheery good morning to her ceramic bust of Broadway legend, Patti Lupone (you could get anything online these days). Oh! And then she would do her daily cardio and shower off before making a start on her rather taxing, but extremely important, moisturising ritual. Then finally, she would leave for school and make a start on all the things she had scheduled for the rest of the day.

She had told Lexa as much and the other girl just nodded along politely before giving her a time and place for their date (just the word itself made Clarke feel extraordinarily giddy inside), before heading out of the library and off to her next class after a curt-sounding goodbye.

“There was just something about her that was so cool and mysterious,” Clarke told Raven and Monty at lunch later that day. Wells didn‘t have time to sit with them today because he had to go to the library to copy out some work for their next class, but she was perfectly fine with this new arrangement anyhow, “I totally thought she was going to kick my ass," she shrugged, "It’s got to be fate.”

“Well, I’d like to meet her,” Raven responded as she bit into a fry, “You’ve got me curious now.”

“Me too,” Monty added, “I mean, as cliché as it might be, it seems like things really turned out in your favour. I wish I could say the same.”

Raven frowned and patted his back sympathetically.

“Boy trouble?” Clarke asked with a raised brow and Monty just groaned into his hands in frustration.

“Jasper won’t stop talking about Octavia and it’s driving me nuts.”

Raven pulled a face and made a slicing motion with her hand and across her neck before nodding over towards where Jasper was sitting with Octavia and a bunch of other cheerleaders. Clarke scoffed at him.

“He’s gross. Forget it.”

Monty removed his head from his hands, face blotchy from where his fingers had been pressing into his cheeks a little too hard, “He thinks I don’t want to listen to him talk about her because I don’t care about his love life. How the hell am I supposed to tell him that I don’t want to listen to him talk about her because I _do_ care, like, way more than I probably should?”

Clarke sighed and Raven pulled Monty’s mouth open by his jaw and inserted one of his own fries inside. He chewed it miserably.

“I’m totally confident that there are like, a gazillion people who want to date you,” Raven reassured him before going back to picking at her own food, “You just have to know where to look, for Clarke it was the school library so-”

“Hey!”

“-you just have to have a little more faith, alright? Jasper can be an ass, we all know that.”

Monty shrugged. Even he couldn’t deny it.

“Why is he even sitting over there anyway?” Clarke added, looking back over at the cheerleader’s table, “Did he offer them free drugs or something?”

Raven snorted into her water bottle and almost started choking until Monty slapped her on the back in turn. It was very easy to make her laugh, Clarke had found out within the first week that the three of them had started hanging out together. Monty had slipped over a piece of notepaper in the hallway and Raven’s hysterics had hit her so hard that as a result she had just ended up lying on the ground beside him. Clarke, on the other hand, was just unimpressed and embarrassed enough for the both of them.

“He serenaded her for the assignment when we had free period,” Monty sighed, snapping one of his fries in half while Raven tried to compose herself, “and I was stupid enough to help him. Go figure.”

Clarke raised both eyebrows expectantly, “Well, what song did he sing?”

“An unfortunately very long and out of tune rendition of Uptown girl by Billy Joel,” he bit into the broken fry, “I had to sit through the whole thing as ‘moral support.’ I basically wanted to die.”

“Ew,” Raven snickered but shot him a sympathetic look all the same, “Mad props to you for getting through that.”

Clarke glanced over towards Octavia, who seemed to be perfectly fine chatting away to her entire table, “Looks like she was impressed.”

“She was. Another reason to put me in an early grave.”

“I’ll get the coffin, you get the shovels,” Raven said, pointing at Clarke.

“What? So we can bury Jasper instead?”

“Yep. That’s the plan.”

“You guys know he’s still my best friend, right?” Monty cut in, even though he looked equally as amused as the others did, “We have to prepare a memorial service first.”

Raven spat her water into her hand and Clarke yelped in surprise at the offending spray of clear liquid before the three of them burst into a fit of giggles, attracting the attention of some of the other lunch tables nearby.

“I love you guys,” she said, putting her arms around both Clarke and Monty’s shoulders, “Seriously. Also Monty, whenever you make a joke it makes me crazy happy.”

He frowned, “You guys don’t think I’m funny. Do you?”

“No,” Clarke replied, reaching over the top of Raven’s head to pinch his cheek, “But your cute face makes up for it. So stop sulking.”

Monty sighed and stared down at all the broken curly fries on his lunch tray that he had previously snapped in frustration. His amusement had worn off quickly and Clarke instantly felt a little more empathetic about the whole situation.

Raven removed her arms and put her head on his shoulder, “She’ll probably be over him within a week once all the weed runs out and he starts begging you for more of that good kush.”

He stayed silent but quickly glanced over to where Jasper was sitting all the same.

“Like I said before, just forget about him, Monty,” Clarke added, finally removing the plastic wrap from her sandwich before taking a large bite out of it, “He’s definitely not date worthy material.”

“And I’m pretty sure he’s straight as an arrow,” Raven chipped in, popping another fry into her mouth, “Sorry.”

“I know. Thanks, I guess,” Monty grumbled, quickly looking disheartened again, “I just wish he didn’t have to run over my feelings all the time like a giant steamroller. I mean, that would probably help a bunch.”

“Oh, honey,” he put his head in his hands again and Clarke reached over to put her hand on his other shoulder pointedly, “Any guy who thinks ‘Radioactive Fuckers’ is a good name for a band, is definitely not good enough for you.”

 

\-------------------------

 

Bellamy Blake was tired.

The noisiness of the quad definitely didn’t help. And as if it wasn’t enough that glee club was totally draining him and his (already) poor, mashed up soul, Octavia had also been asking to borrow his car all week. And it didn’t look like she was going to stop any time soon.

“Just tell her no, like, come on!” Mbege speculated loudly over an embarrassingly large mouthful of mac n’ cheese, “What’s she gonna do? Steal it-? Yo, dude. Can I have some of your curly fries-”

“What-?” He reached over the table towards Miller’s lunch tray, who just sighed and swatted his friend’s hand away in turn, “No way, you greedy jackass! Get your own!”

“Come on, dude. I’m fucking dying here.”

“You aren’t the one paying for it!”

Mbege threw his arm over his eyes and wept dramatically, “Well, then I’m begging you!”

“Order your own fucking food.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Bellamy groaned, suddenly zoning back into the conversation whilst completely electing to ignore the argument between Miller and Mbege, that was now growing in volume. They both looked baffled so he continued, “Not the food. I’m talking about Octavia. She probably _would_ steal the car if she got the chance, so don‘t mention it.”

He definitely wouldn’t put it past her to do something like that at the very least. She was seated across the other side of the quad and Bellamy could very clearly see the way her conversation with Jasper was playing out. He was sure she knew he was keeping an eye on her if the annoyed glances she shot in his direction every few seconds was enough to say about it. He could take a hint.

Monty wasn’t sitting with Jasper either so Bellamy simply guessed that their lunch schedules weren’t completely aligned- well, that was what he’d thought until he spotted him sitting with Clarke and Raven a few tables away, which wasn’t unusual but it also kind of was. Monty had become fast friends with the two girls during the last couple of weeks but usually he and Jasper were stuck together like super glue. Bellamy even felt a little inkling of concern for them.

“Ha,” Murphy snorted in amusement and the sound broke Bellamy’s trance, “Your own sister is bleeding you dry.”

“And she’s not the only one,” Mbege mumbled around his fork as he nodded towards where Clarke was seated further away, “Seriously, what was up with that bullshit today, man?”

Bellamy furrowed his brow in confusion, “What bullshit?”

“Uh, you and the bleached-blonde, she-devil over there,” Murphy added nastily before Mbege could continue, “We barely even know her, yet you are treating her a whole lot better than you treat us on a daily basis.”

“What?” Bellamy took a bite of his salad, “So you think I’m an asshole now?”

“Uh,” Murphy made a mocking expression, “duh. There’s no questioning it.”

Miller slurped his juice and Bellamy just shrugged, “Well, to tell you the truth,” the other rose a brow, “the reason why I’m defending her is mostly because _you’re_ the asshole and because _I_ am going to ask her out later today. It’s been decided. Officially. Jury adorned.”

“So now he is an asshole with feelings,” Mbege added, waggling his finger between them.

Miller shot him one of his exceptionally rare grins, “Both of ‘em.”

“I’m a very valuable member of this shitty ass band, that’s what I am,” Murphy replied, throwing one of his own fries at Bellamy, “So fuck you.”

The worst thing about hanging out with Murphy was that Bellamy could never tell if he was just joking around or if he was genuinely angry. Though sometimes it could be both. Which wasn’t necessarily the best thing to come out of a conversation with him.

“I don’t understand why you hate her so much,” Bellamy shrugged again, directing his gaze towards him, “Like yeah, sure, she’s a little pushy sometimes but she isn’t a bad person. You‘re just being unreasonable.”

“And you’re sure of this, how?”

“I just am,” he frowned deeply, “You shouldn’t have called her out like that today.”

Murphy put down his fork from where he had previously been stabbing at his macaroni a little too ferociously, “Why? So you two could just continue to smooch it up and hog all of the fucking duets? Go the fuck ahead.”

Miller raised his eyebrows from behind his juice box.

“You know what, I think the only reason why you are so pissed off about this whole thing is because I actually, genuinely like her,” Bellamy responded and Murphy’s eyes widened angrily, “And I think you’re jealous.”

“Jealous!?” he spat back. His face had started to turn a magnificent red colour and Bellamy saw own Mbege’s face blanch in fear. Murphy was fuming, “And what the hell is there to be jealous of!? You think I’m jealous because you only met her a couple of weeks ago and like her more than you like any of us- more than me!? Even though we’ve known each other for over two whole fucking years!?”

Bellamy was initially going to reply that he was in fact, ‘jealous of her talent’ but that didn’t exactly seem appropriate after that sort of outburst. A lot of the other students watched as Murphy stood up and slammed down his lunch tray onto the table before storming away towards the other side of the building. Even Octavia looked up from where she and Jasper were tossing grapes at each other aimlessly to watch him go.

_1_

He didn’t know what to say. Mbege and Miller were still staring after Murphy, even after he had completely disappeared from their line of vision.

_2_

“Did I miss something that happened between you two or…” Mbege trailed off when no one looked away from the quickly retreating spot in the distance. Bellamy shook his head.

_3_

It wasn’t as if Murphy had never gotten this angry before but the connotations of what he’d said had left Bellamy feeling confused. He could feel all eyes on him, including Clarke’s, and in his honest opinion, it wasn’t exactly the greatest feeling in the world. Nobody spoke for a little while after that, but Miller slurped at his juice again and shot Bellamy an incredibly knowing look that the latter just couldn’t quite decipher.

_1,2,3,4!_

The glee club was alive with music once again the next day and Bellamy hadn’t received a call from Murphy at all the night before, which was rather concerning on his part, because when Murphy was upset, Bellamy was the first person he’d usually ask for advice. Though it was sort of hard to ask for advice when Bellamy knew that it was he, himself, who was the problem.

The car ride to school had felt a bit lonelier without him, even with five others in the vehicle, so it was a surprise to see Murphy performing today without even a _‘hello’_ or a _‘hey, dickface’_ or some other snarky remark in exchange for his shockingly improved stage presence today.

_“You are the girl, that I’ve been dreaming of ever since I was a little girl.”_  
_“One, I’m biting my tongue. Two, he’s kissing on you. Three, oh, why can’t you see!?”_  
_“ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR.”_

Harper and Monroe were cheering along with him, unaware of what had happened during lunch the day before, but the whole thing just made Bellamy feel a little bit more exhausted than usual. This was the most effort Bellamy had seen Murphy put into a performance since the first day they formed their band, and something about it made him feel sick.

_“The second I do, I know we’re gonna be through.”_  
_“I’m not gonna teach him how to dance with you.”_

The cheers continued and even Raven and Jasper started to sing along in time with the lyrics. Bellamy spotted Clarke’s grim expression from her seat beside him but he looked away quickly and instead decided to focus on the bright colours of Murphy’s worn out, light-up sneakers as he performed. Most of the others were up and dancing now, bar him and her, which was awkward enough to say the least. He wasn’t sure if Clarke was unhappy because of the song choice or because it was Murphy soaking up all the attention instead of her, but in retrospect it probably didn’t really matter either way. Not when he was doing such a great job at singing it. 

Mr. Kane sat in the corner of the room by the whiteboard, clapping his hands along with the group and making gestures for them to get up and dance but Bellamy and Clarke continued to stay where they were seated. Bellamy uncomfortable, and Clarke angry.

He didn’t like fighting with Murphy. He really didn’t.

“Dance!”

_1..._

_2..._

_3..._

_1,2,3,4!_

Murphy shot them both one of his meanest looking grins and carried on nevertheless, “The word’s on the streets and it’s on the news!”

_“I’m not gonna teach him how to dance with you.”_

“He’s got two left feet and he bites my moves!”

_“I’m not gonna teach him how to-.”_

“I’m not gonna teach him how to _daaaaance_ with you,” Murphy sung and Wells whooped loudly, “How to dance with _you- oh no, no,_ I’m not gonna teach him how to dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance,-”

“ _DANCE!_ ” everyone screamed at the end and Mr. Kane burst out laughing whole-heartedly at their enthusiasm. Clarke started in her chair from the noise but Bellamy took no notice. Mr. Kane was up in front of the show choir within seconds.

“Now that,” he said, tapping his marker on the whiteboard as everyone skipped back towards their seats, “Is what I’m talking about.”

The room filled with more claps and cheers and Murphy received multiple pats on the back from the others. Specifically Miller and Mbege, who both started drumming out a rhythm on his shoulders until he waved them off. 

“That is the most involvement in a song I’ve seen from you guys yet,” he continued and Clarke scowled, gripping the bottom of her cheap, red chair tightly enough for her knuckles to turn white, “Nice work, John. You totally nailed the assignment _and_ evoked a good response from your audience. Which was exactly what this whole thing was all about. Evoking a response.”

“I didn’t doubt myself for a second, sir,” Murphy sneered, eyes now trained on Bellamy, who returned his stare heatedly, “If none of us had stood up for ourselves it would’ve been a completely different story.”

“So it would, John,” Mr. Kane nodded towards him before ticking his name off on the whiteboard, “So it would.”

Bellamy knew he had directed that last part towards him but for some reason he didn’t have it in him to speak up this time, which was unusual, because speaking was something Bellamy thought he was particularly good at. 

It was the end of the school day so after club activities Clarke took him aside to talk outside of the choir room. She still looked sort of pissed off so Bellamy decided not to question it until the rest of the club trailed off down the hallway and disappeared from their line of vision. She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail today and aside from the questionable, stripy purple bowtie she wore, he thought she looked particularly nice. Even with the constant frown she wore on her face.

“We’ve got to do something about Murphy,” she hissed once she had guided him towards the lockers on the other side of the corridor, “Did you see that performance today, he is totally plotting against us.”

“Of course I saw it, I was there,” Bellamy replied and she rolled her eyes, iron grip still digging into the sleeve of his letterman jacket, “And can you ease up a little, princess. I know I’m not exactly the most sentimental person, so sorry, but I’m pretty sure Murphy’s GPA isn‘t high enough for him to be _‘plotting against us.’_ The most he can really do is try to deliberately get on our bad sides.” Which seemed to be working from the look Clarke shot him after he’d said this.

She let go of his arm and crossed her own across her chest haughtily, “His attitude this past week has been nothing above terrible.”

“Well, you don’t know him like I know him, okay?” Bellamy sighed, “He probably just has a personal problem with you. You’re kind of pushy.”

Clarke looked appalled at this so he opted to continue, “He’s also been having a pretty hard time lately. Principal Jaha has him on some weird, special probation and I don’t think he’s taking it so well.”

“Then talk to him,” she hissed again, clearly not too happy about being called pushy, “Isn’t he supposed to be your friend?”

Bellamy shrugged one shoulder in disinterest, “I guess.”

“You _guess?_ ”

“He hasn’t explicitly stated that he was, so.”

“God! Do you even care at all?” Clarke frowned, drumming her fingernails along her arm before glancing back up towards him, “No wonder he has so much pent up rage. If I had to hang around with someone like you everyday, I probably would too.”

Of course Bellamy cared, he cared a great deal actually. It wasn’t unusual for Murphy to get upset about something but normally he was there to help patch things up. So was the rest of their band. Though he refrained from saying this out loud, opting to focus on the last thing she had said.

“Murphy’s just that kind of guy. I‘m not as awful as you think.”

“I highly doubt that,” she replied, as forward as ever. Whenever she said something she really meant it.

“Then maybe we should hang out more. You know, to test your theory.”

Smooth, Bellamy, smooth.

“Hang out? With you? Like outside of school?” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “Why?”

He shrugged, “I think you’re cool.” _And really, really pretty,_ he wanted to add but he held his tongue.

Clarke blushed, suddenly looking sort of bashful, which was an expression Bellamy wasn’t completely sure he had seen on her before. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear shyly before answering.

“You’re cool too. And your vocal range could still use some work but it can also hit notes I could never even dream of reaching so for that, I am very grateful.”

He laughed, a real laugh. A laugh he usually reserved for band practices and every time Jasper came up with a new shitty nickname for one of their friends. Clarke chuckled along with him, albeit a little awkwardly, but it was kind of sweet. Bellamy didn’t think he had ever heard her do that either. It was a nice sound.

“So… What did you have in mind?” she continued, face still tinged a little red from his previous statement, “I mean, I sort of have a busy schedule. I’ve got dance class and voice training during after school hours, that I should probably be getting to now so… The only days I really have off are Saturdays.”

Bellamy rose an eyebrow but let a small smile slip all the same, “I was thinking that maybe we could see a movie? This Saturday, then, if that works for you…”

“Oh!” Clarke shook her head, “No, actually. Not this Saturday.”

Bellamy’s smile fell, “Why not?”

“I’ve actually- um,” Clarke took a few seconds to compose herself but when she finally did, she broke out into a wide grin, “I actually got asked out on a date! Like, for the first time ever in my whole entire life- a real date!”

“Oh,” Bellamy was confused. Wasn’t _this_ arrangement now supposed to be a date?

“So we are probably going to have to move our hang out time to next Saturday, if that’s okay with you,” she was still smiling like she couldn’t contain her excitement, now bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet as she responded, “I’ll text you some details later so we can figure it out in advance in case anything else comes up and- oh! I’ll invite Raven, and Monty, and Wells along so we can all get to know each other better! I’m pretty sure Monty wanted to see that new space movie anyway, I can’t remember what it was called so I’ll have to ask him about it later but-”

“Yeah,” Bellamy shook his head, feeling a little crestfallen. He‘d never been shot down by someone like this before, “I get it.”

“Great!” she reached up to pat him on the shoulder and he couldn’t help but wince slightly at the pure joy radiating off of her. She was practically buzzing now, “I am _so_ glad you want to be friends, like, for a second there, you know like back at auditions and stuff, I thought you were just trying to get into my pants. Silly, right?”

“Yup,” he chewed his lip uncomfortably, “Go, figure.”

She was still babbling, though Bellamy’s attention span had been cut short about halfway through whatever speech she’d started making. He wasn’t sure if he had made the right call on this one, he’d thought she had liked him too. The whole thing just felt a little ridiculous now. He should have known that all Clarke wanted out of their relationship was a singing partner.

Maybe Murphy was right after all.

“I kind of feel like we can talk about anything, ya know?” she continued, fingers fiddling with the purple shoulder strap on her backpack. Bellamy tuned back in, “Even if you are a little bit moody and conceited sometimes. Also we harmonize really well together, so meeting you was kind of like a creative blessing.”

Or maybe not. Maybe this was a good change.

“Yeah,” he finally agreed whole-heartedly and she smiled again, “it kind of was.”

It was worth it, he decided. Glee club made Bellamy feel inspired.

“We have musical chemistry,” he said aloud, “So thanks, sort of.”

“I agree,” she shrugged aimlessly before slowly backing down the hallway, “But seriously, I really need to get to dance class or my instructor is going to make me plié at the back of the room again.”

“I won’t hold you up then!” he called back to her and she grinned, sending him a short wave over her shoulder after turning around and heading towards the main exit. He waved back, his own small smile quickly returning to his face at the gesture. All it did was remind him that Clarke was still pretty awesome.

Even if he hadn’t scored a date, Bellamy figured that he didn’t really mind this arrangement too much either.


	4. U Can't Touch(DOWN!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on glee-ful: Tensions are kind of running high in the glee club because Murphy is mad at Bellamy, and Monty is sort of mad at Octavia because he wants to date Jasper, and everybody else is just kind of mad at each other for existing- which is weird because the club has only been running for three weeks into the new semester and the only other person causing problems so far is Clarke. Also Murphy is working for Jaha and is just really angry about everything, which is making things really awkward. And that's what you missed on **GLEE-ful.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I spent so long editing this, please excuse my bad un-beta'd grammar (and enjoy)!
> 
> The song featured in this chapter can be found right over here !!!: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=256Z2X5gZvE

Being slushied only meant one thing at Arkadia High, you were officially classified as the lowest of the lowest on the school popularity scale. And therefore, being covered with the mushy, tasteless, frozen liquid for the first time was pretty much equivalent to being baptized for loser-dom. There was just no going back from there.

It had happened while Monty was on his way back to class after one of his annual, morning mathletes meetings and the whole experience came as a complete shock to him. His eyes stung from the cold and his ears burned in devastation. And even worse still, after blinking away the sticky blue sludge that was now running down his face, he was confronted with the amused faces surrounding him in the hallway as he tried to wipe away some of the excess mess from his cheeks. 

He was cornered.

“Did that quench your thirst, nerd?” one of the offending slushie throwers taunted, throwing the empty cup at his chest. He was wearing a letterman jacket and it didn’t take long for Monty to work out that he was part of the football team, “Aw, look at his face he’s gonna cry. Are you gonna cry for us, wittle baby?”

He put his hands to his eyes and made crying and sobbing gestures but Monty chose not to respond.

“Ha- wait, can he even speak English?” another guy said and the first one laughed.

“Do. You. Understand?” he said slowly, tantalizing him. Mocking him.

Monty looked up at that moment, taking in the other football players that had gathered around to join them. There was about four of them and they were all a whole lot bigger than he was. His eyes finally stopped on Miller and his stomach churned unpleasantly, waiting for him to speak up.

He didn’t.

“Where’s your boyfriend then, loser?” 

“Aw, haha- hey, Atom, I heard he dumped him for that Blake girl.”

“Ouch, is that why you’re crying, dweeb?” the slushie thrower, Atom, sneered down at him, “because your deadbeat boyfriend broke up with you?”

Monty pushed past them, trying his best to ignore the unsubtle stares people were shooting him in the corridor as he headed towards the nearest bathroom. The football jocks continued to heckle him as he walked away and he didn’t feel entirely safe until he was standing in front of his locker alone, later that day. A lot of the other sophomores had free period too but he knew that those guys who had ambushed him earlier on had to at least be juniors. He unintentionally thought of Miller but that just made him feel even worse. His mood had gone completely sour after what had happened and he felt vulnerable and humiliated.

“Woah.”

Monty turned, only to find that the source of the sound was the very ‘boyfriend stealer,’ Octavia Blake, herself. She pulled up next to him and leaned back against the line of bright, red lockers nonchalantly, as if them hanging out was an everyday occurrence (which it definitely was not, as a matter of fact). He wasn’t sure why she had even noticed him standing around in the first place.

“Hey. Dude, you look seriously bummed out,” she said, clacking the bubblegum she was chewing against her teeth, “What the hell even happened to you?”

“What does it look like?” Monty replied, gesturing down at the blue stains that he had tried and failed to get out of his white, collared shirt, “I got slushied by a bunch of jerks. But in all honesty, the worst part was that Miller was right there with them but he didn’t even say anything or try to stop them,” he shrugged and Octavia frowned, “I guess I should’ve expected it though. The popularity scale here at Arkadia High outweighs the friendship one by a landslide.”

That’s right, he totally should’ve known. Maybe Mbege and Bellamy would’ve done the same thing. Scratch that, they _definitely_ would have done the same thing. At the end of the day nobody really wants to be seen or associated with a nerdy mathletes kid.

“That’s so douchey. Miller is an asshole,” Octavia replied, tagging alongside Monty as he shut the door to his locker quietly and ventured down the hallway to his next class, “I honestly just came over to ask for your notes for history class but now I feel super obligated to do something about this, Monty! We can’t just let these sorts of things slide!”

“It’s not like anyone really cares about any of it though,” he sighed, “Clarke has brought up the slushie incidents in almost all of her student council meetings and nothing ever changes-”

“Well, then _we_ make a change,” she looked determined now. Monty shot her a confused look but she just responded by linking her arm through his as they continued walking.

He didn’t know why she was suddenly being so nice to him out of nowhere like this. Sure, they hadn’t really spoken more than a few words to each other like, ever. But Monty had automatically assumed the worst when she had shown up for the first day of glee club, clad in her full cheerleading gear with nothing much to say to anyone aside from her brother. It just didn’t make sense.

“You deserve better than this,” she added, “Friends are supposed to look out for each other so I’m not going to forgive Miller for not defending you.”

Monty rose a thick eyebrow, “And what about you, isn’t it embarrassing to be seen with me? Don‘t you care about your social status at all?”

“My status?” she scoffed, “Please. Screw that. I only joined the cheerios because principal Jaha wouldn’t let me on the football team and I couldn’t think of anything better to do as an extracurricular club.”

“You wanted to be on the football team?”

“Still do,” she sighed, combing her free hand through her dark hair wearily, “I could probably play better than like, a majority of the guys on the team already but when I finally told someone how I felt about it, the only suggestion I got was to go ‘join a women’s team outside of school.’”

Monty frowned, “That’s terrible.”

“I know right! If I were a guy it would be a totally different story- all I want to do is to play a sport I enjoy for my school. It’s totally unfair and I don’t want to be held back anymore.”

“And you’ve given up already?”

“Not entirely, no.”

“Then how about…” Monty slipped his arm out of hers and stopped in the hallway outside of his English class to turn to her, “…we both try to make a change together,” he lifted his fingers, “Kill two birds with one stone.”

Octavia looked skeptical, “What do you mean?”

“I _mean,_ lets go to principal Jaha to voice our concerns.”

“But I’ve already-”

“I know. But this time we can prepare in advance. We’ll get another facility member to help us and then we can hunt for research to support your cause.”

“You’re starting to sound like Clarke,” she snorted, “But I like your plan, Monty Green. I like it very much.”

“So we are in agreement?” he asked and Octavia nodded, offering out her fist to him.

He bumped it back with his own a little cautiously but all it did was make her grin. Monty didn’t know why he’d made so many terrible presumptions about Octavia Blake but thinking about them now only made him feel even worse than he had this morning. No wonder Jasper was so smitten with her. 

“I’ve got to go to class too but we can meet later at lunch after glee practice if you’re free?” she offered before adding, “also, can I still borrow your history notes? Mine totally suck ass and we have a quiz today so…”

“Yeah. Uh, yeah. Sure,” Monty took a moment to rummage through his backpack and pulled out the slip of paper Octavia was pestering him for, “Just bring them back later.”

She cheered happily and punched him on the arm excitedly (it actually kind of hurt but Monty refrained for saying so out loud), before running off down the rest of the hallway. She started yelling _thank you’s_ and _goodbyes_ to him when she got to the end of the corridor that attracted a lot of attention from some other students, but Monty couldn’t really find it in himself to care about what they thought. His exchange with Octavia had been brief but for some reason it had made him feel a little bit better.

Judging her so quickly had definitely been a poor choice on his part.

 

\-------------------------

 

“Did you find anything?”

“Duh, old man. Here’s what I got,” Murphy said, emptying his backpack out on Jaha’s desk. The man looked skeptical but Murphy just ignored it, brushing a few old crumbs that fell out off onto the shaggy carpet in front of him, “Clarke’s school diary, somebody’s dirty gym sock that they left underneath the piano, a packet of gum Miller gave me that I may or may not have forgotten to give back-”

Jaha sighed, lifting the sock up off of his desk with the end of his pen in disgust, “What I meant to say was, did you find anything of interest, John?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Murphy flopped down on his favourite armchair and started rummaging through his things again, “I just wanted to get rid of some of the trash in my bag. Did you know that the back door to the cafeteria is just left wide open during break? I snuck in there to grab some chips and the lunch lady almost caught me. They’re shit though, you can have them, sir.”

He tossed an already opened packet on top of the rubbish pile before Jaha could say another word and Murphy was pretty sure he saw the principal’s eye twitch in frustration. He rest his hands over his face with a groan while Murphy happily sunk lower into his sideways position on the seat.

“I don’t consider myself a wasteful person but those suck major ass, Mr. J. I’ve been doing what you told me like looking for evidence and junk _and_ I’ve also been recording everything that happens in the music room so I don‘t really know what more you want.”

Jaha’s head shot up.

“But I’ve got to say, sir,” Murphy continued with a smirk, “It’s mostly just a bunch of gossip. Though, I think-” he held up a finger, “and I’m just speculating here but- I think that I may have found some serious dirt.”

He pulled out a small cassette recorder and Jaha waved his hand at him silently to press play. In the beginning most of the content on it was Mr. Kane talking, Clarke being her usual annoying self, and a whole lot of awful singing but Murphy skipped quickly through all of that to get to yesterday’s recording. It started off innocently enough but Murphy keenly watched Jaha’s face change as the tape continued. 

Once you got past all of the singing and the goodbyes, Murphy was able to make out two very distinct voices on the recording. Two very distinct voices that made absolutely no sense being part of the same conversation. Monty and Octavia. Plotting against principal Jaha himself. Oh, this was going to be _rich._

“What did you think, sir?”

Jaha looked inquisitive, stroking his goat beard slowly as Murphy tore open a new packet of salt and vinegar chips, “I think we are right back at the root of the problem.”

“Slushies and football?” Murphy asked, crinkling the chip bag in his hand. He tossed the cassette recorder up and down while he waited for a reply. This was all just getting too good. This was exactly the kind of spy work he had signed up for. Murphy loved being the inside man.

“Slushies and football,” Jaha confirmed. He removed his hand from his beard and Murphy’s smile quickly snaked across his face.

_Perfect._

 

\-------------------------

 

“You really think we’re gonna pull this off?” Octavia asked and Monty nodded.

They were standing outside of Indra’s office, going over what they were going to say about the whole football situation. She was the cheerleading coach and according to Octavia, she’d probably be the most understanding about the issue. And though Monty didn’t really her well enough to be sure about this, he decided to trust Octavia’s judgement.

“Yeah,” he replied, glancing towards the door a little anxiously. He still wasn’t 100% about everything but the best thing to do right then would be to encourage her, “If coach Indra is as cool as you say she is then she will totally hear you out. Even if we fail, we will just have to try again with another teacher. A teacher that is uh, less scary, maybe.”

She swallowed loudly, following his gaze towards the door for a second before steeling another determined look that Monty was slowly starting to get used to.

“Thank you,” she said, and his eyes quickly flicked back to her, “I mean it, at first I was trying to inspire you to be less of a loser but it turns out you are the one who really ended up inspiring me to take a chance on this. I’m really nervous right now but I’m glad you’re here with me. The support seriously helps.”

“It’s okay,” he patted her shoulder warmly, ignoring the ‘loser’ part, “You’ve got this.”

“That’s right,” she nodded to herself, “Yeah. I’ve totally got this.”

She reached forward and knocked on the door, once. Twice. Three times, before there was a voice from inside the room calling for them to enter.

From what Monty had heard, Indra was mean. Like _really_ mean. Her expression was always grim whenever he saw her walking around in the corridors and Jasper had once told him that she’d kicked a girl off of the cheerios for chewing gum! _Once!_ The fact that she was Octavia’s first go to as a voice of reason was extraordinarily questionable. He just hoped all the rumors about her weren’t true.

“What is it?” Indra asked, or well, maybe demanded was a better sense of the word. She pushed the paperwork she was doing aside and glanced between Octavia and Monty. He gulped audibly, “I have a very busy schedule to attend to so if this is about your cheerleading uniform again then bring it up with the student council.” 

“It’s not,” Octavia responded and Indra raised an eyebrow, “I have something to tell you but I don’t want you to change your mind about me when you hear it.”

Indra’s eyes suddenly flickered with interest. She leaned forward in her seat to rest her elbow on the desk in front of her, “I’m listening.”

Monty saw Octavia’s shoulders stiffen but her facial expression remained the same. Strong. Driven. Determined. She was so admirable and he immediately wished he could say the same about himself.

Octavia exhaled.

“I don’t want to be a cheerio anymore. I want to be on the football team.”

Monty was expecting some sort of speech or compliment for her initiative in response but Indra just sighed and picked up her pen to go straight back to her paperwork, “No.”

“But coach-”

“I believe in your abilities, Miss Blake,” she replied, eyes still trained on whatever she was writing, “But there is no way your principal is going to allow it.”

“But the rest of the school district allows it so why not Arkadia High?”

“Because we have a very strict policy.”

“But-”

“No more buts,” Indra held a finger up to silence her but she still didn’t lift her eyes off of her work. Monty could see the way Octavia’s jaw clenched and unclenched from his position beside her but he remained silent, yet again, “Please leave my office now, Miss Blake.”

Octavia shot him a quick look from her side and his stomach felt all queasy again.

In a perfect world Monty would wish for whatever anxiety he had to go away so he could speak as freely as he wanted to, but time after time again he found himself all choked up. Octavia had said that since going to Indra was her idea, she would handle all the talking on her own. But he couldn’t help but feel wistful of the fact that he was unable to speak up and help his friend when he wanted to so badly.

He just wanted the quietness to go away. He didn’t think that was too much to ask or hope for but he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything in fear of becoming the centre of attention. He didn’t realise just how silent the room had become up until now.

“Coach.”

“I said no.”

“But-” Octavia started but the look she received in return made her rethink her choice of words. It was a wonder that her confidence hadn’t cracked completely, “Coach. Listen. I have been nice and I have been patient about this but I know what I’m capable of. I’m just trying to be true to myself and I-” she scowled, “And I came to you because I thought you of all people would understand that-”

“Miss Blake-”

“No. You- you say that you believe in my abilities but where is the proof? If you really believed in me then I would be out on that field, not standing on the sidelines like some kind of muppet-!”

“Miss Blake, calm dow-”

“No, I will not calm down, coach!” Octavia snarled and Monty stepped back and out of range of her flinging arm gestures, “I can do all of the things those boys can do and I can do them better! So why should I have to sit back and push my dreams aside while my brother is out there turning his into a reality simply because of my gender! It’s fucked up!”

“ _MISS BLAKE!_ ” Indra stood from the chair behind her desk and Octavia quickly clamped her own mouth shut, expression still as angry and twisted as it had been while she was making her speech, “You have absolutely no right to come into my office and talk down to me the way you just did. You have no idea what it’s like to be out on the field in an official game!”

“Then give me a chance!” she replied, clenching her fists until her knuckles turned white, “How am I supposed to know if you don’t just let me see for myself. I can show you that I am ready,” she bit her lip, eyes suddenly turning watery, “I can prove how dedicated I am, coach- how strong I am. Just give me a chance.”

“There aren’t any spots on the team available.”

“Then I’ll wait,” she angrily responded, trying to steel her expression back into that fierce mask she wore on the way in. Monty could see right through it. He figured Indra probably could too, “I’ll sit on the bench until there’s a place available.”

Indra sighed and sat back down in her seat slowly.

“You don’t give up, do you?” she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. She picked up her pen again and Octavia nodded, “Fine. I’ll talk to Jaha and then I’ll get back to you.”

Octavia blinked, “I’m sorry?”

“I said I’ll think about it, Miss Blake,” Indra said blankly, eyes trained back on her paperwork again, “Now get out of my office, both of you.”

Monty had thought she’d forgotten he was there but now he realized that definitely was not the case. Indra was still terrifying, but the fact that she hadn’t looked past Monty shook him up a little bit. When they went outside, Octavia screamed and hugged him. Which was also new. He was glad she was happy but his own problem had still been left unsolved for now.

Maybe it was selfish of him to think that way but he couldn’t help it. The bullying in this school was still completely out of control and after the slushie incident yesterday he felt extremely uncomfortable walking the hallways alone. He had no idea how Clarke and Wells dealt with it before they all got to know each other but something about it was admirable. They were strong.

He wished he was strong too.

 

The glee club was alive and kicking when they got back and Octavia groaned and covered her ears at the music playing as they entered the choir room. Music stands were strewn mostly everywhere and the few people that were in there were dancing together badly in the centre of the room. Both Miller and Mbege were trying to moonwalk and Raven and Jasper were standing on top of two chairs, yelling loudly at each other.

_“You can’t touch this!”_

“Yo, I told you,” Mbege laughed, thumping Miller on the back, “Why you standing there man? _Yo, sound the bell! School is in sucker._ ”

_“You can’t touch this!”_

When he spotted them, Jasper jumped off of his chair and ran over to where Monty and Octavia were standing by the doorway to drag them into the choir room with everybody else. It looked like Mbege and Miller were having some sort of dance off and Raven was jeering and boo’ing them to throw them off of their game. Which was successful for most part, but became a lot more hilarious after Mbege started to try childishly twirling around and rapping at the same time. It all looked like one big musical disaster.

_“You can’t touch this!”_

“Break it down!”

“ _Ohhhhhhh-ohhhh-ohhhh-ohhhhhh-ohhhh!_ ” they all sang together and Monty burst out laughing. It all sounded really out of tune but everyone was really enjoying themselves so in the end it really made no difference whatsoever. Mbege took it upon himself to scream the next line, “Stop! Hammer time!”

_“Go with the flow, it is said- if you can’t groove to this then you are probably dead.”_  
_“So wave- your hands in the air, bust a few moves, run your fingers through your hair.”_  
_“This is it- for a winner, dance to this and you’re gonna get thinner”_  
_“Move! Slide your rump! Just for a minute, let’s all do the bump!”_

“Where were you guys!?” Jasper yelled at them over the music, “My last class finished like half an hour ago!”

“I had to sort something out!” Octavia replied, putting her hand on his shoulder, “I’ll tell you about it later!”

“Yeah,” Mbege grinned, coming up beside them to wrap his arms around Miller and Jasper’s shoulders. Monty glanced away, “Look, man. You’ll better get hyped boy, cause you know-”

_“You can’t touch this!”_

“What the hell is even going on in here?”

Clarke’s head was poking around the doorframe to the music room and Raven hopped off of the chair (with Jasper’s help) and ran over to where she was standing, dragging Monty along in tow. Clarke stepped into the room along with them, glancing around at the mess a little distastefully.

“We decided to have a little jam session before club activites began,” Raven explained and Clarke rose an eyebrow, “We’ll clean up the place, don’t worry.”

“You better,” she replied, before turning towards Monty, “Where have you been? I barely saw you today and yesterday.”

“I’ve been doing good deeds,” he shrugged, and the other two both shot him an incredulous look. 

“Well, okay then!” Raven grinned, pulling them both in close for a hug.

Monty thought it was crazy how relaxed he felt talking to the two girls, and the fact that he could’ve gone through his whole high school experience without meeting them made him feel a little weird and giddy. If Clarke hadn’t been searching so intensely and if Raven hadn’t been in detention, he would probably just be sitting in the library with Jasper right now doing absolutely nothing of interest. 

“ _Every time you see me, that Hammer’s just so hype. I’m dope on the floor and I’m magic on the mic,_ ” Mbege continued to rap while Monty watched Jasper try to out dance Miller in the middle of the room. He hadn’t told him about what happened yesterday, but it was only because he didn’t want to cloud his best friend’s judgement. This was his own problem to solve.

_“Now why would I ever, stop doing this? With others making records, that just don’t hit.”_  
_“I toured around the world, from London to The Bay- it’s Hammer, go Hammer, MC Hammer, yo Hammer- and the rest can go and play- can‘t touch this.”_

_“You can’t touch this!”_

Raven dragged both him and Clarke back into the centre with everybody else to finish the song but Clarke insisted that she’d rather tidy up the place than ‘jump around like a hooligan.’ Which ended up being sort of a plus, because by the time everything was over, Mr. Titus had walked into the room to tell them to shut the door because their singing was disturbing ongoing classes. And when he left, that somehow lead on to spending the rest of their time doing bad impressions of teachers in the music room. Mbege’s ‘coach Pike voice’ had Raven in stitches and she ended up in tears on the floor by the time the bell rang to signal their next period.

Jasper jumped up to leave almost immediately because he and Monty had chemistry class next, which was undeniably his favourite (mostly because he just liked the practical experiments). He called for Monty to hurry up when he made his way out into the hallway but the other took his time to follow behind. He knew Jasper would probably wait for him anyway.

“Hey, wait.” 

Miller stopped in front of the doorway before Monty could leave the music room. He was still wearing his letterman jacket that day with his signature black beanie placed firmly over his shaved head, and Monty really just didn’t have it in him to try and push his way past the older boy. Not when he was already so small in comparison.

“Hey,” he said cautiously back, instead trying his best to avoid his eyes, “I kind of need to go to class so what‘s up…?”

Miller’s grumpy expression didn’t change and Monty didn’t know why he expected to get any sort of pity from him. He didn’t really understand what grounds their relationship stood on at this point but before yesterday he would have assumed that they were somewhat friends, even though neither of them really talked a great deal, Monty had initially thought that they’d built something of a mutual respect over the past year. 

Though, he wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

“I wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” Miller grunted, folding his arms across his chest, “It wasn’t cool of those guys to do that to you.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Monty frowned up at him, deciding to be truthful, “It was actually pretty humiliating.” 

The other didn’t respond so he opted to carry on speaking, a new surge of confidence he didn’t know he had now pushing him to continue.

“And it was wrong of you too. To just stand there and watch,” he added, and Miller blinked, the look on his face finally shifting to something akin to surprise, “I honestly thought you were better than that and, you know, after all the band stuff we’ve been through, some stupid part of me thought we were actually sort of friends now.”

“We _are_ friends.”

“Friends are supposed to look out for each other and you just stood there and let me take the fall so I think that’s kind of proof enough that we‘re not,” Monty mimicked Octavia’s words from yesterday, finally finding it inside himself to try and shuffle past him into the hallway, “Maybe don’t speak to me for a while…”

He wanted to catch up with Jasper before he got too far ahead but Miller grabbed him by the forearm before he could get away.

“Look, hey. I was scared too, alright?” he hissed, eyebrows still furrowed into his default scowl, “None of them know that me and the guys are in glee club and we aren’t sure how it’ll affect the team yet. What the hell did you even expect me to do back there? They’d kick my ass if they knew.”

“So you’d rather let them kick mine instead.”

“My reputation would be ruined.”

“Well, then don’t come over to talk to me just to rub your weird, protective, popularity bubble in my face- I don‘t care about how they’d react to you coming out about glee club,” Monty shrugged indifferently before turning away, “That’s your own problem.”

Miller was speechless so Monty finally shook his arm free of his grip and tightened his own on his backpack as he walked over to where Jasper was waiting for him at the end of the corridor.

“What was up with him?” he asked, looking over the top of Monty’s head to stare at where Miller was heading off in the other direction. He glanced down at Monty next and folded his arms across his chest a little apprehensively, “You okay?”

Monty felt his heart flutter in his chest at the small acknowledgement. He nodded.

“I’m fine. We were just having a disagreement over the band schedule.”

“That looked like more than a disagreement.”

“Just drop it, Jasper.”

“Alright,” Jasper rose an eyebrow, he still didn’t look convinced, “Well, you wanna come back to my place after school? My parents aren’t home we can play Mario Kart?”

Monty grinned. He always knew just how to cheer him up.

“Sure,” he replied, trying to disguise the happiness in his voice as something more nonchalant but it probably didn’t work. They started heading towards their science class, “But I’m luigi this time.”

“Uh, no,” Jasper laughed in response, knocking shoulders with him as they walked, “You were luigi last time so it’s only fair that you be toad. My house, my rules.”

“Really, Jasper?” he shot him an incredulous look, “ _‘My house, my rules?’_ So we’re twelve again now?”

“Okay, you are definitely not allowed say that after eating all of my fruit snacks yesterday.”

“They were unexpectedly delicious!” Monty replied unabashedly, “I’ll buy you some more if you’re really that upset about it.”

They stopped in front of their classroom and Jasper smiled. Obviously he didn’t really care that much about the fruit snacks.

If Monty was as disillusioned about their relationship as he used to be he might’ve considered this short conversation a sign that Jasper was into him, but he tried not to over think it. Friends did this sort of thing all the time. There wasn’t anything unusual about it. Especially not when Jasper was dating Octavia, who was super cool, and confident, and incredibly beautiful. Why would he ever give her up to settle on someone like him?

Stop over thinking it.

“So, you were hanging out with Octavia today,” Jasper said when the bell rang and they finally walked into class, taking their seats at their favourite table at back of the room. He nudged Monty jokingly, “Not trying to steal my girl are you?”

Just stop over thinking it.

“No,” he shrugged his backpack off of his shoulders and slid it on the floor beneath his chair, “She asked for a favour so I just thought that it wouldn’t hurt to help her out.”

Jasper looked curious now. He leaned forward towards Monty, elbow resting dangerously close to the row of empty vials on their table, “She asked you a favour? I didn’t think you guys even talked.”

“Uh.”

Monty blinked. Jasper’s face was only a couple of inches away from his and all this really did was enable his heart to beat a little bit more uncontrollably in his chest.

“Well, the whole thing was sort of spontaneous,” he sat back a little in his seat because of their sudden close proximity. Monty wasn’t sure whether or not to continue but if she and Jasper were dating, whatever he had to say probably wasn’t a secret. Octavia was a very open person, he’d found that out easily enough, “She wanted me to go with her to coach Indra’s office to help her drop out of the cheerios.”

“What- why!?” Jasper seemed shocked. Monty didn’t know whether or not this was good or bad.

“She wants to be on the football team,” he continued, lips thinning hopelessly after he’d said it. 

He laughed and shook his head, “Good one, Monty.”

“It’s not a joke.”

“You’re funny but come on, I’m not stupid. We both know that’s not true.”

“It is,” he frowned, but Jasper just shook his head again in disbelief. His expression was unreadable and he didn’t talk for a while after Monty had spoken, he just kind of sat back in his chair silently until the teacher finally came into the classroom to start the lesson.

He started speaking to Monty again about five minutes into the class but he didn’t mention Octavia at all for the remainder of the hour, which Monty knew was definitely 100% his own fault. It did make him feel a little less jealous but now he was sort of worried that he’d said too much. Though luckily his fear quickly demolished when the school bell rang again to signal the end of the lesson, as Jasper didn’t hesitate to pull out his iphone from his pocket to type out a text to the very girl in question.

Monty leaned over his shoulder to see what he had sent Octavia but he froze in his seat when he scanned over the four words Jasper had spelled out on his phone.

**We need to talk.**

 

\-------------------------

 

“Well, what are we supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want to do. I just thought you’d like to know this type of information,” Murphy said, smugly tilting his head up to face Atom, who looked a little bit disgusted and mildly confused, “Nobody likes a liar, right? Especially when team sport is involved.”

Though, of course Murphy was an extraordinary liar himself, but everybody here probably already knew that.

They were standing in front of the sports hall at the end of the school day and he had decided that it was suddenly in his best interest to finally get the drama ball mischievously rolling. Which was something Murphy had never had a problem with. In fact, it was just a part of his nature.

“And why should we trust you?” the football player replied, receiving multiple nods from the rest of his friends crowding behind them.

“Yeah!” chipped in another. Murphy didn‘t recognise him but his large build and bright red hair made him pretty impossible to miss, “What the hell would you even gain from telling us this anyway? You’re all talk, no stick.”

There were some more mumbles in agreement and Murphy rolled his eyes.

“Okay,” he sighed loudly and impatiently, voice quickly turning snappy, “Let’s try this again without anymore interruptions from Ronald McDonald’s potato-faced cousin over here and get straight to the point. There are three guys on your team wearing glittery, sequin-covered boxers under their football pants and I am doing a great service to this school by telling you who these losers are. Whether you want to listen or not is your own issue.”

“So you’re not bullshitting us?” Atom asked, eyes still narrowed suspiciously down at him.

“What good would lying to you be? I’m just doing this for the good of our community. However you use this information is up to you,” he smirked and some of the football players shot each other wary looks in unison.

“You’re a real nasty shit. You know that, right?”

Murphy sneered, “I’m aware.”

Atom still looked unsure, eyes never leaving his face, “Names?”

“John Mbege, Nathan Miller, and,” he hesitated, swallowing down the sudden taste of bile in his throat, “Bellamy Blake.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Murphy confirmed, “Now if you may,” he shooed them all aside to clear a path for himself, “I have somewhere better to be.”

He could feel them watching him as he walked away but Murphy paid no mind to it. He was used to all the careful, condescending looks he received whenever he got too close to anybody in the hallway.

Murphy wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about ratting out his bandmates but it’s not like he really had a choice. He knew he’d have to start playing dirty when he formed an alliance with Jaha from day one but it was definitely a lot easier said than done. It wasn’t as if the three of them had actually been kind to him this past week after what had gone down out on the quad, but Miller and Mbege had stuck with him since they turned up as freshman and Bellamy-

Was an asshole. There was no excuse.

He shrugged off whatever inkling of guilt he felt previously as he headed home.

Normally he and Bellamy would drive home together in his shitty car with the others but since they had stopped speaking, Murphy had gotten used to walking back alone. Which did unfortunately take some getting used to, but he wasn’t ready to talk to them yet. And he was pretty certain that after the stunt he‘d just about managed to pull off, they’d never want to speak to him again anyway. So that sucked some pretty serious ass too.

Emori had said she’d meet him after school was over but she had probably stalked off somewhere else by the time he was out since he hadn’t received her usual text in advance, but that was fine. He’d let it slide this time. He probably wouldn’t want to hang out with himself either.

Something a lot of people didn’t know was where exactly Murphy lived. And it wasn’t the location that was the problem, no- it was the actual building, the home itself. 

So when Bellamy had offered to pick him up for the first time when he was a junior, it had probably come as a shock to him. But if it did, Bellamy still hadn‘t shown it. When he told him that he lived in a foster home he’d just sort of nodded at Murphy in understanding and then moved on. Like it wasn’t weird at all.

Murphy had lived his whole life feeling completely out of place. And most of it was due to the fact that nobody really wanted to adopt an angry, troubled kid with a mean looking face and behavioral problems. Which sort of made sense to him, but it still made him feel disheartened all the same.

Something he wasn’t expecting when he got there though, was Bellamy’s car waiting right out front. Which was especially strange considering that whenever he came to pick him up or drop him off, he’d always park around the corner, completely out of sight from any prying eyes.

Murphy tried to maneuver his way past but as soon as he stepped foot onto his street, Bellamy jumped out of the car, waiting for him beside it with his arms folded stiffly across his chest.

“Hey.”

“Why the hell are you here?” Murphy replied, not stopping in his quest to get inside as quickly as possible, “I thought I made it pretty damn obvious that I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I wanted to see if you were doing okay,” Bellamy said, trailing after him slowly. There was a short distance between them as Murphy walked up the garden path towards the front door but the other continued to follow, “It’s been a week.”

Murphy stopped frantically trying to unlock the door and turned to finally shoot him the most dangerous looking glare he could possibly muster.

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well, where else was I supposed to catch you?” Bellamy frowned, “We don’t have any classes together and now we don’t even talk in glee club. What about Radioactive Fuckers?”

“Actually I think it’s ‘Toxicity Grenade’ now, and you aren’t supposed to catch me,” he snapped back, shifting back around to try and open the door again, “That’s kind of the point of me avoiding you.”

Bellamy seemed to be totally dumbfounded by this.

“Why?” he walked further up the path to where Murphy was standing and put his hand over the one still trying to jam the key into the rusty lock, “All this because I called you jealous? It was just something that came out, I didn’t even mean it,” Murphy ignored him and opted to just stare at the door instead, “Do you really hate Clarke that much?”

“You know, for someone who gets straight A’s, you’re not all that intelligent.”

“Okay… so…” Bellamy leaned back against the door to stop him from getting inside, “If that’s not the real issue, enlighten me then.”

Murphy sighed and rolled his eyes. He just wanted this conversation to be over already.

“I’m not gonna leave until you talk,” he added and Murphy sighed again, a little louder this time so Bellamy got the memo, “I skipped out on football practice to be here. So you kind of owe me one.”

 _Good,_ Murphy silently thought to himself. Miller and Mbege were probably being beat to a bloody pulp as they spoke.

He refrained from saying as much out loud but it was tempting. He desperately wanted to make Bellamy angry. He wanted to rile him up. But instead he just took a step back because of their sudden close proximity and scowled at him.

“What do you want me to talk about?”

“Us,” Bellamy replied, “Our relationship. Where we stand.”

Murphy scoffed and spared him a disbelieving glance, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I sort of wish I was right now but last week, after all that drama between us, someone made me realise that I’m not really too sure what side you’re actually on.”

“And by someone you mean that annoying, blonde butthole, right?”

“Whatever,” Bellamy sighed and ignored his question, “Can you just stop running your mouth and answer me seriously for once? Do we only hang out because it’s convenient for you or something?”

Murphy wanted to answer no to both, because that was honestly the truth, but he quickly reconsidered after remembering what he’d done. Even if Bellamy forgave him now, he’d never spare him another glance tomorrow morning when he finds out about what will most likely happen to Miller and Mbege at practice. It didn’t really register to him how big a deal this really was until right that second. He’d just told the entire football team that his bandmates were in glee club. Murphy had betrayed them.

All three of them.

“Yes,” he finally replied, sliding his arm past Bellamy’s frame to unlock the door and push it open, “I mean, I get free rides to and from school and people actually talk to me for more than five seconds when you’re around. So yes, it’s extremely convenient and beneficial for me. Thank you for asking.”

He slipped underneath Bellamy’s arm and into his foster home when the other appeared to be caught off guard. It wasn’t the easiest way to maneuver inside, and he hit his elbow hard on the doorframe, but he shrugged the pain away quickly.

Bellamy’s face fell completely, “That’s not what I meant-”

“Fuck off,” Murphy slammed the door in his face before taking a deep breath inwards and sliding onto the carpet in front of him.

Fortunately, there was nobody in the hallway at the time so he sat there for about ten minutes, maybe more, he wasn’t exactly sure. He wasn’t sure if he were crying or not either, but if somebody came by and asked then he would definitely say no. No, he was not shedding tears over some shitbags from Arkadia High. And no, he was definitely _not_ shedding tears over someone as simple minded and argumentative as Bellamy Blake and his asshole friends.

“Yes,” he whispered to himself as he leaned with his back against the door with a sigh, “Yes, you are.”


End file.
